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WHIMSICALITIES. 


THOMAS    HOOD 


WITH     ILLUSTRATIONS 


N  E  W-YOR  K: 

GEORGE    P.    PUTNAM 


18  52 


CONTENTS. 


The  Schoolmistress  Abroad 

9 

No! 

59 

The  Tower  of  Lahneck 

.       60 

To  My  Daughter,  on  her  Birth  Day 

73 

The  Defaulter.     «  An  Ottre  True  Tale." 

.       74 

Sonnet           ...... 

97 

The  Earth-Quakers         .... 

.       98 

The  Grimsby  Ghost               .... 

114 

Epigram.     On  The  Art-Unions 

.     135 

A  Black  Job              ..... 

136 

Mrs.  Gardiner:  A  Horticultural  Romance 

.     143 

A  Sketch  on  the  Road           .... 

170 

A  Tale  of  Terror            .... 

.     171 

Hydropathy,  or  The  Cold  Water  Cure 

175 

Mr.  Chubb :  A  Piscatory  Romance 

.     183 

A  Very  So-so  Character        .... 

203 

Epigram.     On  the  Superiority  of  Machinery 

.     204 

A  Custom-house  Breeze        .... 

204 

Notes  by  Shakspeare      .... 

.     206 

New  Harmony           ..... 

208 

The  Happiest  Man  in  England 

.     211 

Horse  and  Foot         ..... 

221 

A  Hard  Case       ..... 

.     227 

LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


Discovery  of  the  Pole. 

Miss  Crane. 

Doctor's  Commons. 

Bad  French. 

Broke  by  a  fall  of  the  Stocks. 

Vocal  Police. 

A  Double  Knock. 

My  Son  and  Hair. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Crumpler. 

A  Non-Sequitur. 

Source  of  the  Niger. 

An  Unfortunate  Bee-ing. 

If  and  But. 

The  Cold  Water  Cure. 

"  My  Eyes,  There's  a  Mouse  ! " 

Hullah-baloo. 

"Does  your  Mother  know  you're  Out?" 

A  Capital  Pump. 

The  Old  Gentleman. 

A  Full  Habit. 


.PUBLISHER'S  ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  favourable  reception  of  the  comprehensive  selection  from 
Thomas  Hood's  writings  in  the  volumes  of  "  Poems,"  and  "  Prose 
and  Verse,"  published  a  few  years  since  by  the  subscriber — in  a  form 
of  general  similarity  to  the  present  series — has  induced  the  under- 
taking of  the  completion,  in  this  popular  style,  of  the  most  important 
of  this  author's  numerous  productions.  The  author  of  "  The  Pugs- 
ley  Papers,"  "  The  Dream  of  Eugene  Aram,"  and  "  The  Song  of  the 
Shirt,"  left  much  behind  him  engrafted  with  the  humour,  the  gaiety, 
sentiment,  the  deep  feeling  of  these  well-known  writings.  In  the 
few  years  which  have  elapsed  since  his  death,  it  has  been  abundantly 
proved  that  in  his  peculiar  walk  he  has  left  no  successor.  No  man 
furnishes  us,  with  so  free  a  hand,  such  innocent  light  hearted  mirth, 
no  one's  jests  play  more  gracefully,  in  the  happy  illustration  of  the 
old  poet,  about  the  heart. 

It  was  well  remarked  at  the  time  of  his  death  by  an  able  critic  in 
the  Athenccum : — "  The  secrets  of  these  effects,  if  analysed,  would 
give  the  characteristics  of  one  of  the  most  original  and  powerful 
geniuses  which  ever  was  dropped  by  Faery  into  infant's  cradle,  and 
oddly  nursed  up  by  man  into  a  treasure,  quaint,  special,  cameleon- 
coloured  in  the  changefulness  of  its  tints,  yet  complete  and  self  con- 
sistent. Of  all  the  humorists  Hood  was  the  most  poetical.  When 
dealing  with  the  most  familiar  subjects,  whether  it  might  be  a  Sweep 
bewailing  the  suppression  of  his  cry,  or  a  Mother  searching  through 
St.  Giles's  for  her  lost  infant,  or  a  Miss  Kilmansegg's  golden  child- 


VI 

hood — there  was  hardly  a  verse  in  which  some  touches  of  heart,  or 
some  play  of  fancy,  did  not  beckon  the  laughing  reader  away  into 
far  other  worlds  than  the  Jester's." 

This  is  the  spirit  of  all  Hood's  volumes,  playful  and  poetical ;  light 
as  gossamer,  but  profound  enough  too,  if  you  look  into  them ;  and, 
above  all  other  jesting — innocent. 

The  volumes  of  Hood  which  will  appear  immediately  in  this  series 
are,  "  Whimsicalities,  a  Periodical  Gathering,"  made  by  himself,  of 
some  of  his  best  papers ;  the  capital  volume  of  the  school  of  Hum- 
phrey Clinker,  "  Up  the  Rhine  ;"  with  a  new  collection  of  Miscella- 
neous Prose  and  Verse  under  the  author's  title  of"  Hood's  Own." 

These  will  be  illustrated  with  the  author's  quaint  and  humorous 
designs,  which  are  frequently  independent  of  the  text,  and  always 
laughable  epigrams  in  themselves. 

7V>?/'."VWI-      P»J,^m«,     IRAQ 


PREFACE. 


It  is  proper  to  state  that  the  majority  of  the  papers  in  the  present 
Volumes  were  contributed  to  the  New  Monthly  Magazine  during  the 
Author's  late  Editorship  of  that  periodical.  Whether  they  deserved 
reprinting  or  repressing,  must  be  determined  between  the  public  and 
the  literary  Court  of  Review. 

As  usual  the  Reader  will  vainly  look  in  my  pages  for  any  startling 
theological  revelations,  profound  political  views,  philological  disquisi- 
tions, or  scientific  discoveries.  As  fruitlessly  will  he  seek  for  any 
Transcendental  speculations,  Antiquarian  gossip,  or  Statistical  Table 
Talk.  And  least  of  all  will  he  find  any  discussion  of  those  topics 
which  occupy  the  leaders  and  misleaders  of  the  daily  prints : — for 
any  enlightenment,  Bude  or  Boccius,  on  the  dark  ways  of  Parliament 
and  Downing  Streets,  or  the  dangerous  crossing  between  the  Church 
and  the  Catholic  Chapel.  He  might  as  well  expect  to  have  his  cigar 
lighted  by  the  Sun  or  his  "  Arms  Found"  by  the  Morning  Herald. 

As  little  will  the  anticipations  be  realized  of  the  feminine  reader, 
who  seeks  for  love  rhapsodies,  higher  flown  than  the  Aerial  Carriage ; 
for  scenes  of  what  is  called  Fashionable  Life ;  or  the  serious  senti- 
mentalities of  that  new  Paradoxurus  the  Religious  Novel.  She 
might  as  well  go  to  St.  Benet  Sherehog  for  Berlin  wool ;  or  hope  to 
dance,  at  the  Ball  of  St.  Paul's,  to  Weippert's  last  New  Quadrilles. 

My  humble  aim  has  been  chiefly  to  amuse;  but  the  liberal  Utilita- 
rian will,  perhaps,  discern  some  small  attempts  to  instruct  at  the 
same  time.  He  will,  maybe,  detect  in  "  The  Defaulter,"  a  warning 
against  rash  and  uncharitable  judgments;  in  the  "Black  Job,"  a 
"  take  care  of  your  pockets,"  from  the  Pseudo-Philanthropists ;  and 
in  the  "Omnibus"  a  lesson  to  Prudery.     He  may,  possibly,  discover 


Vlll 

in  "  The  Earth-Quakers,"  a  hit  at  the  astrological  quackery,  not  only 
of  Doctor  Dee,  but  of  more  modern  Zadkiels  ;  and  recognise  in  the 
"  Grimsby  Ghost,"  the  correction  of  a  Vulgar  Error,  that  Spirits  come 
and  go  on  very  immaterial  errands.  In  the  "  Schoolmistress  Abroad," 
a  deliberate  design  is  acknowledged,  to  show  up  that  system  of 
Boarding  School  Education  which  renders  a  Young  Lady  as  eligible 
for  a  wife,  as  a  strange  female  would  be  for  a  Housekeeper,  with 
only  a  Twelfth  Night  character. 

Here  this  Preface  might  end :  but  old  associations,  and  the  ap- 
proach of  a  season  specially  devoted  to  hospitality,  good-fellowship, 
charity,  and  the  Christian  virtues,  irresistibly  impel  me  to  the  expres- 
sion of  a  few  benevolent  wishes  towards  the  World  in  general,  and 
my  own  Country,  nay,  my  own  Country  in  particular.  We  have  all 
an  open,  or  sneaking  kindness,  for  our  peculiar  province,  as  the 
sporting  yeomanry  well  knew,  and  felt,  when  they  translated  Pitt's 
regimental  motto  which  they  pronounced  "  Pro  Haris  et  Focis," — for 
our  Hares  and  Foxes. 

In  this  spirit,  my  kindest  aspirations  are  offered  to  my  Readers, 
and  in  particular  to  those  nearest  home.  If  there  be  any  truth  in  the 
statistics  of  publication,  my  Comic  Annuals,  heretofore,  have  afforded 
some  slight  diversion  to  the  cares  of  Man,  Woman,  and  Middlesex, 
and  it  is  my  earnest  hope  and  ambition  that  my  "  Whimsicalities " 
may  still  serve  the  same  purpose  in  the  same  "  trumpery  sphere." 

If  a  word  may  be  added,  it  is  a  good  one  in  favour  of  the  Artist 
who  has  supplied  the  illustrations ;  and  who  promises,  by  his  pro- 
gressive improvement,  that  hereafter  our  "Leech  Gatherers"  shall  not 
only  collect  in  bags  or  baskets,  but  in  portfolios. 

THOMAS  HOOD. 
December  4,  1843. 


€\i  IrjjnnliinstmH  SUmufo 

AN    EXTRAVAGANZA. 


DISCOVERING    THE    POLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

She  tawght  'hem  to  sew  and  marke, 
All  manner  of  sylkyn  werke, 
Of  her  they  were  full  fayne. 

Romance  of  Emare. 

A  Schoolmistress  ought  not  to  travel — 

No,  sir ! 

No,  madam — except  on  the  map.     There,  indeed,  she  may 


10  WHIMSICALITIES. 

skip  from  a  blue  continent  to  a  green  one — cross  a  pink  isthmus 
— traverse  a  Red,  Black,  or  Yellow  Sea — land  in  a  purple  island, 
or  roam  in  an  orange  desert,  without  danger  or  indecorum. 
There  she  may  ascend  dotted  rivers,  sojourn  at  capital  cities,  scale 
alps,  and  wade  through  bogs,  without  soiling  her  shoe,  rumpling 
her  satin,  or  showing  her  ankle.  But  as  to  practical  travelling, 
— real  journeying  and  voyaging, — oh,  never,  never,  never! 

How,  sir !  Would  you  deny  to  a  Preceptress  all  the  excursive 
pleasures  of  locomotion  ? 

By  no  means,  miss.  In  the  summer  holidays,  when  the  days  are 
long  and  the  evenings  are  light,  there  is  no  objection  to  a  little  trip 
by  the  railway — say  to  Weybridge  or  Slough — provided  always — 

Well,  sir  ? 

That  she  goes  by  a  special  train,  and  in  a  first-class  carriage. 

Ridiculous  ! 

Nay,  madam — consider  her  pretensions.  She  is  little  short  of 
a  Divinity  ! — Diana,  without  the  hunting  ! — a  modernized  Mi- 
nerva ! — the  Representative  of  Womanhood  in  all  its  purity ! — 
Eve,  in  full  dress,  with  a  finished  education  ! — a  Model  of  Moral- 
ity ! — a  Pattern  of  Propriety  ! — the  Fugle-woman  of  her  Sex  ! 
As  such  she  must  be  perfect.  No  medium  performance — no  or- 
dinary good-going,  like  that  of  an  eight-day  clock  or  a  Dutch 
dial — will  suffice  for  the  character.  She  must  be  as  correct  as  a 
prize  chronometer.  She  must  be  her  own  Prospectus  personified. 
Spotless  in  reputation,  immaculate  in  her  dress,  regular  in  he- 
habits,  refined  in  her  manners,  elegant  in  her  carnage,  nice  in  her 
taste,  faultless  in  her  phraseology,  and  in  her  mind  like — like — 

Pray  what,  sir  ? 

Why,  like  your  own  chimney-ornament,  madam — a  pure  crys- 
tal fountain,  sipped  by  little  doves  of  alabaster. 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  11 

A  sweet  pretty  comparison  !     Well,  go  on,  sir  ! 

Now,  look  at  travelling.  At  the  best,  it  is  a  rambling,  scram- 
bling, shift-making,  strange-bedding,  irregular-mealing,  foreign- 
habiting,  helter-skelter,  higgledy-piddledy  sort  of  process.  At 
the  very  least,  a  female  must  expect  to  be  rumpled  and  dusted ; 
perhaps  draggled,  drenched,  torn,  and  roughcasted — and  if  not 
bodily  capsized  or  thrown  a  summerset,  she  is  likely  to  have  her 
straightest-laced  prejudices  upset,  and  some  of  her  most  orthodox 
opinions  turned  topsyturvy.  An  accident  of  little  moment  to 
other  women,  but  to  a  schoolmistress  productive  of  a  professional 
lameness  for  life.  Then  she  is  certain  to  be  stared  at,  jabbered  at, 
may  be  jeered  at,  and  poked,  pushed,  and  hauled  at,  by  curious 
or  officious  foreigners — to  be  accosted  by  perfect  and  imperfect 
strangers — in  short,  she  is  liable  to  be  revolted  in  her  taste, 
shocked  in  her  religious  principles,  disturbed  in  her  temper,  dis- 
ordered in  her  dress,  and  deranged  in  her  decorum.  But  you 
shall  hear  the  sentiments  of  a  Schoolmistress  on  the  subject. 

Oh !  a  made-up  letter. 

No,  miss, — a  genuine  epistle,  upon  my  literary  honour.  Just 
look  at  the  writing — the  real  copy-book  running-hand — not  a  t 
uncrossed — not  an  i  undotted — not  an  illegitimate  flourish  of  a 
letter,  but  each  j  and  g  and  y  turning  up  its  tail  like  the  pug 
dogs,  after  one  regular  established  pattern.  And  pray  observe 
her  capitals.  No  sprawling  K  with  a  kicking  leg — no  trouble- 
some W  making  a  long  arm  across  its  neighbour,  and  especially 
no  great  vulgar  D  unnecessarily  sticking  out  its  stomach.  Her 
H,  you  see,  seems  to  have  stood  in  the  stocks,  her  I  to  have 
worn  a  backboard,  and  even  her  S  is  hardly  allowed  to  be 
crooked  ! 


12  WHIMSICALITIES. 


CHAPTER  II. 


"  Phoo  !  phoo !  it's  all  banter,"  exclaims  the  Courteous 
Reader. 

Banter  be  banged  !  replies  tbe  Courteous  Writer.  But  pos- 
sibly, my  good  sir,  you  have  never  seen  tbat  incomparable 
schoolmistress,  Miss  Crane,  for  a  Miss  she  was,  is,  and  would  be, 
even  if  Campbell's  Last  Man  were  to  offer  to  ber  for  the  pre- 
servation  of  the  species.  One  sight  of  her  were,  indeed,  as  good 
as  a  thousand,  seeing  that  nightly  she  retires  into  some  kind  of 
mould,  like  a  jelly  shape,  and  turns  out  again  in  the  morning 
tbe  same  identical  face  and  figure,  the  same  correct,  ceremonious 
creature,  and  in  the  same  costume  to  a  crinkle.  But  no — you 
never  can  have  seen  that  She-Mentor,  stiff  as  starch,  formal  as  a 
Dutch  hedge,  sensitive  as  a  Daguerreotype,  and  so  tall,  thin,  and 
upright,  that  supposing  the  Tree  of  Knowledge  to  have  been  a 
poplar,  she  was  the  very  Dryad  to  have  fitted  it !  Otherwise, 
remembering  that  unique  image,  all  fancy  and  frost  work — so 
incrusted  with  crip  and  brittle  particularities — so  bedecked  alle- 
gorically  with  the  primrose  of  prudence,  the  daisy  of  decorum, 
the  violet  of  modesty,  and  the  lily  of  purity,  you  would  confess 
at  once  that  such  a  Schoolmistress  was  as  unfit  to  travel — un- 
packed— as  a  Dresden  China  figure. 

Excuse  me,  sir,  but  is  there  actually  such   a  real  personage  ? 

Real !  Are  there  real  Natives — Real  Blessings  to  Mothers — 
Real  Del  Monte  shares,  and  Real  Water  at  the  Adelphi  ?  Only 
call  her  *  *  *  *  *  instead  of  Crane,  and  she  is  a  living,  breath- 
ing, flesh  and  blood,  skin  and  bone  individual !  Why,  there  are 
dozens,  scores,  hundreds  of  her  Ex-Pupils,  now  grown  women, 
who  will  instantly  recognise  their  old  Governess  in  the  form  with 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 


13 


which,  mixing  up  Grace  and  Gracefulness,  she  daily  prefaced 
their  rice-milk,  butter-puddings,  or  raspberry-bolsters.  As  thus  : 
"  For  what  we  are  going  to  receive — elbows,  elbows ! — the 
Lord  make  us — backs  in  and  shoulders  down — truly  thankful 
— and  no  chattering — amen." 


IUISS   CRANE. 


14:  WHIMSICALITIES. 


CHAPTER  III. 


"  But  the  letter,  sir,  the  letter- 


"  Oh,  I  do  so  long,"  exclaims  one  who  would  be  a  stout  young 
woman  if  she  did  not  wear  a  pinafore,  "  oh,  I  do  so  long  to  hear 
how  a  governess  writes  home  ! " 

"  The  professional  epistle,"  adds  a  tall,  thin  Instructress,  gen- 
teelly in  at  the  elbows,  but  shabbily  out  at  the  fingers'  ends,  for 
she  has  only  twenty  pounds  per  annum,  with  five  quarters  in 
arrear. 

"  The  Schoolmistress's  letter,"  cries  a  stumpy  Teacher — only  a 
helper,  but  looking  as  important  as  if  she  were  an  educational 
coachwoman,  with  a  team  of  her  own,  some  five-and-twenty  skit- 
tish young  animals,  without  blinkers,  to  keep  straight  in  the  road 
of  propriety. 

"  The  letter,  sir,"  chimes  in  a  half-boarder,  looking,  indeed,  as 
if  she  had  only  half-dined  for  the  last  half-year. 

"  Come,  the  letter  you  promised  us  from  that  paragon,  Miss 
Crane." 

That's  true.  Mother  of  the  Muses,  forgive  me  !  I  had  for- 
gotten my  promise  as  utterly  as  if  it  had  never  been  made.  If 
any  one  had  furnished  the  matter  with  a  file  and  a  rope  ladder 
it  could  not  have  escaped  more  clearly  from  my  remembrance. 
A  loose  tooth  could  not  more  completely  have  gone  out  of  my 
head.  A  greased  eel  could  not  more  thoroughly  have  slipped 
my  memory.  But  here  is  the  letter,  sealed  with  pale  blue  wax, 
and  a  device  of  the  Schoolmistress's  own  invention — namely,  a 
note  of  interrogation  (?)  with  the  appropriate  motto  of  "  an  an- 
swer required."  And  in  token  of  its  authenticity,  pray  observe 
that  the  cover  is  duly  stamped,  except  that  of  the  foreign  post- 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  15 

mark  only  the  three  last  letters  are  legible,  and  yet  even  from 
these  one  may  swear  that  the  missive  has  come  from  Holland ; 
yes,  as  certainly  as  if  it  smelt  of  Dutch  cheese,  pickle-herrings 
and  Schie  *  *  * !     But  hark  to  Governess  ! 

"  My  dear  Miss  Parfitt, 

"  Under  the  protection  of  a  superintending  Providence  we 
have  arrived  safely  at  this  place,  which  as  you  know  is  a  sea-port 
in  the  Dutch  dominions — chief  city  Amsterdam. 

"  For  your  amusement  and  improvement  I  did  hope  to  com- 
pose a  journal  of  our  continental  progress,  -with  such  references  to 
Guthrie  and  the  School  Atlas  as  might  enable  you  to  trace  our 
course  on  the  Map  of  Europe.  But  unexpected  vicissitudes  of 
mind  and  body  have  totally  incapacitated  me  for  the  pleasing 
task.  Some  social  evening  hereafter  I  may  entertain  our  little 
juvenile  circle  with  my  locomotive  miseries  and  disagreeables; 
but  at  present  my  nerves  and  feelings  are  too  discomposed  for 
the  correct  flow  of  an  epistolary  correspondence.  Indeed,  from 
the  Tower-stair  to  Rotterdam  I  have  been  in  one  universal  tremor 
and  perpetual  blush.  Such  shocking  scenes  and  positions,  that 
make  one  ask  twenty  times  a  day,  is  this  decorum  ? — can  this  be 
morals!  But  I  must  not  anticipate.  Suffice  it  that  as  regards 
i'n-  ign  travelling  it  is  my  painful  conviction,  founded  on  personal 
experience,  that  a  woman  of  delicacy  or  refinement  cannot  go  out 
of  England  without  a;oing  out  of  herself! 

"  The  very  first  step  from  an  open  boat  up  a  windy  ship-side 
is  an  alarm  to  modesty,  exposed  as  one  is  to  the  officious  but 
odious  attentions  of  the  Tritons  of  the  Thames.  Nor  is  the 
steamboat  itself  a  sphere  for  the  preservation  of  self-respect.  If 
there  is  any  feature  on  which  a  British  female  prides  hers  If,  it  is 


16  WHIMSICALITIES. 

a  correct  and  lady -like  carriage.  In  that  particular  I  quite  coin- 
cide with  Mrs.  Chapone,  Mrs.  Hannah  More,  and  other  writers 
on  the  subject.  But  how — let  me  ask — how  is  a  dignified  de- 
portment to  be  maintained  when  one  has  to  skip  and  straddle 
over  cables,  ropes,  and  other  nautical  hors  cToeuvres — to  scram- 
ble up  and  down  impracticable  stairs,  and  to  clamber  into  in- 
accessible beds  ?  Not  to  name  the  sudden  losing  one's  centre 
of  gravity,  and  falling  in  all  sorts  of  unstudied  attitudes  on  a 
sloppy  and  slippery  deck.  An  accident  that  I  may  say  reduces 
the  elegant  and  the  awkward  female  to  the  same  level.  You  will 
be  concerned,  therefore,  to  learn  that  poor  Miss  Ruth  had  a  fall, 
and  in  an  unbecoming  posture  particularly  distressing — namely, 
by  losing  her  footing  on  the  cabin  flight,  and  coming  down  with 
a  destructive  launch  into  the  steward's  pantry. 

"  For  my  own  part  it  has  never  happened  to  me  within  my 
remembrance  to  make  a  false  step,  or  to  miss  a  stair :  there  is  a 
certain  guarded  carnage  that  preserves  one  from  such  sprawling 
denouemens — but  of  course  what  the  bard  calls  the  '  poetry  of 
motion,'  is  not  to  be  preserved  amidst  the  extempore  rollings  of 
an  ungovernable  ship.  Indeed,  within  the  last  twenty-four  hours, 
I  have  had  to  perform  feats  of  agility  more  fit  for  a  monkey  than 
one  of  my  own  sex  and  species.  Par  example  :  getting  down 
from  a  bed  as  high  as  the  copybook-board,  and  Avhat  really  is 
awful,  with  the  sensation  of  groping  about  with  your  feet  and  legs 
for  a  floor  that  seems  to  have  no  earthly  existence.  I  may  add, 
the  cabin-door  left  ajar,  and  exposing  you  to  the  gaze  of  an  ob- 
trusive cabin-boy,  as  he  is  called,  but  quite  big  enough  for  a  man. 
Oh,  je  ne  jamais  ! 

"  As  to  the  Mer  Maladie,  delicacy  forbids  the  details ;  but  as 
Miss  Ruth  says,  it  is  the  height  of  human  degradation  ;   and  to 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  17 

add  to  the  climax  of  our  letting  down,  we  had  to  give  way  to  the 
most  humiliating  impulses  in  the  presence  of  several  of  the  rising 
generation — dreadfully  rude  little  girls  who  had  too  evidently  en- 
joyed a  had  bringing  up. 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  your  poor  Governess  was  shockingly  indis- 
posed. Not  that  I  had  indulged  my  appetite  at  dinner,  being 
too  much  disgusted  with  a  public  meal  in  promiscuous  society, 
and  as  might  be  expected,  elbows  on  table,  eating  with  knives, 
md  even  picking  teeth  with  forks !  And  then  no  grace,  which 
assuredly  ought  to  be  said  both  before  and  after,  whether  we  are 
to  retain  the  blessings  or  not.  But  a  dinner  at  sea  and  a  school 
dinner,  where  we  have  even  our  regular  beef  and  batter  days,  are 
two  very  different  things.  Then  to  allude  to  indiscriminate  con- 
versation, a  great  part  of  which  is  in  a  foreign  language,  and  ac- 
cordingly places  one  in  the  cruel  position  of  hearing,  without 
understanding  a  word  of,  the  most  libertine  and  atheistical  sen- 
timents. Indeed,  I  fear  I  have  too  often  been  smiling  com- 
placently, not  to  say  engagingly,  when  I  ought  rather  to  have 
been  flashing  with  virtuous  indignation,  or  even  administering 
the  utmost  severity  of  moral  reproof.  I  did  endeavour,  in  one 
instance,  to  rebuke  indelicacy  ;  but  unfortunately  from  standing 
near  the  funnel,  was  smutty  all  the  while  I  was  talking,  and  as 
school  experience  confirms,  it  is  impossible  to  command  respect 
with  a  black  on  one's  nose. 

"Another  of  our  Cardinal  Virtues,  personal  cleanliness,  is  to- 
tally impracticable  on  ship-board  :  but  without  particularizing,  I 
will  only  name  a  general  sense  of  grubbiness ;  and  as  to  dress,  a 
rumpled  and  tumbled  tout  ensemble,  strongly  indicative  of  the 
low  and  vulgar  pastime  of  rolling  down  Greenwich-hill !  And 
then,  in  such  a  eostume  to  land  in  Holland,  where  the  natives  get 


18  WHIMSICALITIES. 

up  linen  with  a  perfection  and  purity,  as  Miss  Ruth  says,  quite 
worthy  of  the  primeval  ages  !  That,  surely  is  bad  enough — but 
to  have  one's  trunks  rummaged  like  a  suspected  menial — to  see 
all  the  little  secrets  of  the  toilette,  and  all  the  mysteries  of  a  fe- 
male wardrobe  exposed  to  the  searching  gaze  of  a  male  official — 
Oh  shocking  !  shocking  ! 

"  In  short,  my  dear,  it  is  my  candid  impression,  as  regards 
foreign  travelling,  that  except  for  a  masculine  tally-hoying  female, 
of  the  Di  Vernon  genus,  it  is  hardly  adapted  to  our  sex.  Of  this 
at  least  I  am  certain,  that  none  but  a  born  romp  and  hoyden,  or 
a  girl  accustomed  to  those  new-fangled  pulley-hauly  exercises,  the 
Calisthenics,  is  fitted  for  the  boisterous  evolutions  of  a  sea-voyage. 
And  yet  there  arc  creatures  calling  themselves  Women,  not  to 
say  Ladies,  who  will  undertake  such  long  marine  passages  as  to 
Bombay  in  Asia,  or  New- York  in  the  New  World  !  Consult 
Arrowsmith  for  the  geographical  degrees. 

"  Affection,  however,  demands  the  sacrifice  of  my  own  personal 
feelings,  as  my  Reverend  Parent  and  my  Sister  are  still  inclined 
to  prosecute  a  Continental  Tour.  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  during 
the  voyage,  Miss  Ruth  endeavoured  to  parlez  franpois  with  some 
of  the  foreign  ladies,  but  as  they  did  not  understand  her,  they 
must  all  have  been  Germans. 

"  My  paper  warns  to  conclude.  I  rely  on  your  superintending 
vigilance  for  the  preservation  of  domestic  order  in  my  absence. 
The  horticultural  department  I  need  not  recommend  to  your  care, 
knowing  your  innate  partiality  for  the  offspring  of  Flora — and  the 
dusting  of  the  fragile  ornaments  in  the  drawing-room  you  will 
assuredly  not  trust  to  any  hands  but  your  own.  Blinds  down  of 
course — the  front-gate  locked  regularly  at  5  p.m. — and  I  must 
particularly  beg  of  your  musical  penchant,  a  total  abstinence  on 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  19 

Sundays  from  the  pianoforte.  And  now  adieu.  The  Reverend 
T.  C.  desires  his  compliments  to  you,  and  Miss  Ruth  adds  her 
kind  regards  with  which  believe  me, 

"  My  dear  Miss  Parfitt, 
"  Your  affectionate  Friend  and  Preceptress, 
"  Priscilla  Crane. 

"  P.  S. — I  have  just  overheard  a  lady  describing,  with  strange 
levity,  an  adventure  that  befell  her  at  Cologne.  A  foreign  post- 
man invading  her  sleeping-apartment,  and  not  only  delivering  a 
letter  to  her  on  her  pillow,  but  actually  staying  to  receive  his 
money,  and  to  give  her  the  change  !  And  she  laughed  and  called 
him  her  Bed  Post  !     Fi  done  !     Fi  done  ! " 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Well — there  is  the  letter — 

"  And  a  very  proper  letter  too,"  remarks  a  retired  Seminarian, 
Mrs.  Grove  House,  a  faded,  demure-looking  old  lady,  with  a  set 
face  so  like  wax,  that  any  strong  emotion  would  have  cracked  it 
to  pieces.  And  never,  except  on  a  doll,  was  there  a  face  with 
such  a  miniature  set  of  features,  or  so  crowned  with  a  chaplet  of 
little  string-coloured  curls. 

"  A  proper  letter  ! — what,  with  all  that  fuss  about  delicacy  and 
decorum ! " 

Yes,  miss.  At  least  proper  for  the  character.  A  Schoolmis- 
tress is  a  prude  by  profession.  She  is  bound  on  her  reputation 
to  detect  improprieties,  even  as  he  is  the  best  lawyer  who  dis- 
covers the  most  flaws.  It  is  her  cue  where  she  cannot  find  an 
indecorum  to  imagine  it ; — just  as  a  paid  Spy  is  compelled,  in  a 


20  WHIMSICALITIES. 

dearth  of  High  Treason,  to  invent  a  conspiracy.  In  fact,  it  was 
our  very  Miss  Crane  who  poked  out  an  objection,  of  which  no 
other  woman  would  have  dreamt,  to  those  little  button-mush- 
rooms called  Pages.  She  would  not  keep  one,  she  said,  for  his 
weight  in  gold. 

"  But  they  are  all  the  rage,"  said  Lady  A. 

"  Every  body  has  one,"  said  Mrs.  B. 

"  They  are  so  showy  !"  said  Mrs.  C. 

■"  And  so  interesting !"  lisped  Miss  D. 

"  And  so  useful,"  suggested  Miss  E. 

"  I  would  rather  part  with  half  my  servants,"  declared  Lady 
A.,  "  than  with  my  handsome  Cherubino  !" 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Miss  Crane,  with  a  gesture  of  the 
most  profound  acquiescence.  u  But  if  /  were  a  married  woman, 
I  would  not  have  such  a  boy  about  me  for  the  world — no,  not  for 
the  whole  terrestrial  globe.  A  Page  is  unquestionably  very  a  la 
mode,  and  very  dashing,  and  very  pretty,  and  may  be  very  useful 
— but  to  have  a  youth  about  one,  so  beautifully  dressed,  and  so 
indulged,  not  to  say  pampered,  and  yet  not  exactly  treated  as 
■one  of  the  family — I  should  certainly  expect  that  every  body 
would  take  him " 

"  For  what,  pray,  what  ?" 

"  Why,  for  a  natural  son  in  disguise." 


CHAPTER  V. 

But  to  return  to  the  Tour. — 

It  is  a  statistical  faet,  that  since  1814  an  unknown  number  of 
persons,  bearing  an  indefinite  proportion  to  the  gross  total  of  the 
population  of   the   British   empire,   have   been    more    or    less 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  21 

"abroad."  Not  politically,  or  metaphysically,  or  figuratively, 
but  literally  out  of  the  kingdom,  or  as  it  is  called  in  foreign 
parts. 

In  fact,  no  sooner  was  the  Continent  opened  to  us  by  the 
Peace,  than  there  was  a  general  rush  towards  the  mainland.  An 
Alarmist,  like  old  Croaker,  might  have  fancied  that  some  of  our 
disaffected  Merthyr  Tydvil  miners  or  underminers  were  scuttling 
the  Island,  so  many  of  the  natives  scuttled  out  of  it.  The  out- 
landish secretaries  who  sign  passports,  had  hardly  leisure  to  take 
snuff. 

It  was  good,  however,  for  trade.  Carpet-bags  and  portman- 
teaus rose  one  hundred  per  cent.  All  sorts  of  Guide-books  and 
Journey  Works  went  off  like  wildfire,  and  even  Sir  Humphrey 
Davy's  "  Consolations  in  Travel "  was  in  strange  request.  Ser- 
vants, who  had  "  no  objection  to  go  abroad "  were  snapped  up 
like  fortunes — and  as  to  hwd-riding  "  Curriers,"  there  was 
nothing  like  leather. 

It  resembled  a  geographical  panic — and  of  all  the  Country 
and  Branch  Banks  in  Christendom,  never  was  there  such  a  run 
as  on  the  Banks  of  the  Rhine.  You  would  have  thought  that 
they  were  going  to  break  all  to  smash — of  course  making  away 
beforehand  with  their  splendid  furniture,  unrivalled  pictures,  and 
capital  cellar  of  wines  !  However,  off  flew  our  countrymen  and 
countrywomen,  like  migrating  swallows,  but  at  the  wrong  time  of 
year ;  or  rather  like  shoals  of  salmon,  striving  up,  up,  up  against  the 
stream,  except  to  spawn  Tours  and  Reminiscences,  hard  and  soft, 
instead  of  roe.  And  would  that  they  were  going  up,  up,  up  still 
— for  when  they  came  down  again,  Ods,  Jobs,  and  patient  Gri- 
zels !  how  they  did  bore  and   Germanize  us,  like  so  many  flutes. 

It  was  impossible  to  go  into  society  without  meeting  units. 


22  WHIMSICALITIES. 

tens,  hundreds,  thousands  of  Rhenish  Tourists — travellers  in 
Ditchland,  and  in  Deutchland.  People  who  had  seen  Nimagen 
and  Nim- Again — who  had  been  at  Cologne,  and  at  Koeln,  and 
at  Colon — at  Cob-longs  and  Coblence — at  Swang  Gwar  and  at 
Saint  Go-er — at  Bonn — at  Bone — and  at  Bong ! 

Then  the  airs  they  gave  themselves  over  the  untravelled !  How 
they  bothered  them  with  Bergs,  puzzled  them  with  Bads,  deafened 
them  with  Dorfs,  worried  them  with  Heims,  and  pelted  them  with 
Steins  !  How  they  looked  down  upon  them,  as  if  from  Ekren- 
breitstein,  because  they  had  not  eaten  a  German  sausage  in  Ger- 
many, sour  krout  in  its  own  country,  and  drunk  seltzer-water  at 
the  fountain-head  !  What  a  donkey  they  deemed  him  who  had 
not  been  to  Assmanshauser — what  a  cockney  who  had  not  seen 
a  Rat's  Castle  besides  the  one  in  St.  Giles's !  He  was,  as  it 
were,  in  the  kitchen  of  society,  for  to  go  "  up  the  Rhine,"  was  to 
go  up  stairs ! 

Now  this  very  humiliation  was  felt  by  Miss  Crane ;  and  the 
more  that  in  her  establishment  for  Young  Ladies  she  was  the 
Professor  of  Geography,  and  the  Use  of  the  Globes.  Moreover, 
si  \iial  of  her  pupils  had  made  the  trip  with  their  parents,  during 
the  vacations,  and  treated  the  travelling  part  of  the  business  so 
lightly,  that  in  a  rash  hour  the  Schoolmistress  determined  to  go 
abroad.  Her  junior  sister,  Miss  Ruth,  gladly  acceded  to  the 
scheme,  and  so  did  their  only  remaining  parent,  a  little,  sickly, 
querulous  man,  always  in  black,  being  some  sort  of  dissenting 
minister,  as  the  "  young  ladies "  knew  to  their  cost,  for  they 
had  always  to  mark  his  new  shirts,  in  cross-stitch,  with  the 
Reverend  T.  C.  and  the  number — "  the  Reverend"  at  full  length. 

Accordingly,  as  soon  as  the  Midsummer  holidays  set  in,  there 
was  packed — in  I  don't  know  how  many  trunks,  bags,  and  cap- 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  23 

boxes, — I  don't  know  what  luggage,  except  that  for  each  of  the 
party  there  was  a  silver  spoon,  a  knife  and  fork,  and  six  towels. 

"  And  pray,  sir,  how  far  did  your  Schoolmistress  mean  to  go  ?" 

To  Gotha,  madam.  Not  because  Bonaparte  slept  there  on  his 
flight  from  Leipsic — nor  yet  from  any  sentimental  recollections. of 
Goethe — not  to  see  the  palace  of  Friedenstein  and  its  museum — 
nor  to  purchase  an  "  Almanach  de  Gotha" — nor  even  because  His 
Royal  Highness  Prince  Albert,  of  Saxe  Gotha,  was  the  Husband 
Elect  of  our  Gracious  Queen. 

"  Then  what  for,  in  the  name  of  patience  ? " 

Why,  because  the  Berlin  wool  was  dyed  there,  and  so  she 
could  get  Avhat  colour  and  shades  she  pleased. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  Now  of  all  things,"  cries  a  Needlewoman — one  of  those  to 
whom  Parry  alludes  in  his  comic  song  of  "  Berlin  Wool " — "  I 
should  like  to  know  what  pattern  the  Schoolmistress  meant  to 
work ! " 

And  so  would  say  any  one — for  no  doubt  it  would  have  been 
a  pattern  for  the  whole  sex.  All  I  know  is,  that  she  once  worked 
a  hearth-rug,  with  a  yellow  animal,  couchant,  on  a  green  ground, 
that  was  intended  for  a  panther  in  a  jungle :  and  to  do  justice  to 
the  performance,  it  was  really  not  so  very  unlike  a  carroty- 
<;it  in  a  bed  of  spinach.  But  the  face  was  a  dead  failure.  It 
was  not  in  the  gentlewomanly  nature,  nor  indeed  consistent  with 
the  professional  principles  of  Miss  Crane,  to  let  a  wild,  rude,  un- 
governable creature  go  out  of  her  hands ;  and  accordingly  the 
feline  physiognomy  came  from  her  fingers  as  round,  and  mild, 
and  innocent  as  that  of  a  Baby.     In  vain  she  added  whiskers  to 


24  WHIMSICALITIES. 

give  ferocity — 'twas  a  Baby  still — and  though  she  put  a  circle  of 
fiery  red  around  each  staring  ball,  still,  still,  it  was  a  mild,  inno- 
cent Baby — but  with  very  sore  eyes. 

And  besides  the  hearth-rug,  she  embroidered  a  chair-cushion, 
for  a  seat  devoted  to  her  respected  parent — a  pretty,  ornithological 
design — so  that  when  the  Reverend  T.  C.  wanted  to  sit,  there 
was  ready  for  him  a  little  bird's-nest,  with  a  batch  of  speckled 
eggs. 

And  moreover,  besides  the  chair-bottom but,  in  short, 

between  ourselves,  there  was  so  much  Fancy  work  done  at  Le- 
banon House,  that  there  was  no  time  for  any  real. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

There  are  two  Newingtons,  Butts,  and  Stoke : — but  the  last 
has  the  advantage  of  a  little  village-green,  on  the  north  side  of 
which  stands  a  large  brick-built,  substantial  mansion,  in  the  com 
fortable  old  Elizabethan  livery,  maroon-colour,  picked  out  with 
white.  It  was  anciently  the  residence  of  a  noble  family,  whose 
crest,  a  deer's  head,  carved  in  stone,  formerly  ornamented  each 
pillar  of  the  front  gate  :  but  some  later  proprietor  has  removed 
the  aristocratical  emblems,  and  substituted  two  great  white  balls, 
that  look  like  petrified  Dutch  cheeses,  or  the  ghosts  of  the  Celes- 
tial and  Terrestrial  Globes.  The  house,  nevertheless,  would  still 
seem  venerable  enough,  but  that  over  the  old  panelled  door,  as 
if  taking  advantage  of  the  fan-light,  there  sit,  night  and  day, 
two  very  modern  plaster  of  Paris  little  boys,  reading  and  writing 
with  all  their  might.  Girls,  however,  would  be  more  appro 
priate ;  for,  just  under  the  first  floor  windows,  a  large  board  inti- 
mates, in  tarnished  gold  letters,  that  the  mansion  is  "  Lebanon 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  25 

House,  Establishment  for  Young  Ladies.  By  the  Misses 
Crane."  Why  it  should  be  called  Lebanon  House  appears  a 
mystery,  seeing  that  the  building  stands  not  on  a  mountain,  but 
in  a  flat ;  but  the  truth  is,  that  the  name  was  bestowed  in  allusion 
to  a  remarkably  fine  Cedar,  which  traditionally  stood  in  the  fore 
court,  though  long  since  cut  down  as  a  tree,  and  cut  up  in  lead 
pencils. 

The  front  gate  is  carefully  locked,  the  hour  being  later  than 
5  p.  m.,  and  the  blinds  are  all  down — but  if  any  one  could  peep 
through  the  short  Venetians  next  the  door,  on  the  right  hand 
into  the  Music  Parlour,  he  would  see  Miss  Parfitt  herself  stealthily 
playing  on  the  grand  piano  (for  it  is  Sunday)  but  with  no  more 
sound  than  belongs  to  that  tuneful  whisper  commonly  called 
"  the  ghost  of  a  whistle."     But  let  us  pull  the  bell. 

"  Sally,  are  the  ladies  at  home  ? " 

"  Lawk  !    sir  ! — why  haven't  you   heard  ?      Miss   Crane  and 

Miss  Ruth  are  a  pleasuring  on  a  Tower  up  the  Rhind — and  the 

Reverend  Mr.  C.  is  enjoying  hisself   in    Germany  along  with 

them." 

***** 

Alas !  poor  Sally  !  Alas  !  for  poor  short-sighted  human  nature  ! 

"  Why,  in  the  name  of  all  that's  anonymous,  what  is  the  mat- 
ter?" 

Lies !  lies !  lies !  But  it  is  impossible  for  Truth,  the  pure 
Truth,  to  exist,  save  with  Omnipresence  and  Omniscience.  As 
for  mere  mortals,  they  must  daily  vent  falsehoods  in  spite  of  them- 
selves. Thus,  at  the  very  moment,  while  Sally  was  telling  us — ■ 
but  let  Truth  herself  correct  the  Errata. 

For — "  The  Reverend  Mr.  C.  enjoying  himself  in  Germany — " 

Read — "  Writhing  with  spasms  in  a  miserable  Prussian  inn." 


26  WHIMSICALITIES. 

For — "  Miss  Crane  and  Miss  Ruth  a-pleasuring  on  a  Tour  up 
the  Rhine—" 

Read — "  Wishing  themselves  home  again  with  all  their  hearts 
and  souls." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

It  was  a  grievous  case ! 

After  all  the  troubles  of  the  Reverend  T.  C.  by  sea  and  land — 
his  perplexities  with  the  foreign  coins  at  Rotterdam — with  the 
passports  at  Nimeguen — with  the  Douane  at  Arnheim — and  with 
the  Speise-Karte  at  Cologne — : — 

To  be  taken  ill,  poor  gentleman,  with  his  old  spasms,  in  such 
a  place  as  the  road  between  Todberg  and  Grabheim,  six  good 
miles  at  least  from  each,  and  not  a  decent  inn  at  either !  And  in 
such  weather  too — unfit  for  anything  with  the  semblance  of  hu- 
manity to  be  abroad — a  night  in  which  a  Christian  farmer  would 
hardly  have  left  out  his  scarecrow ! 

The  groans  of  the  sufferer  were  pitiable — but  what  could  be 
done  for  his  relief?  on  a  blank  desolate  common  without  a  house 
in  sight — no,  not  a  hut !  His  afflicted  daughters  could  only  try 
to  sooth  him  with  words,  vain  words — assuasive  perhaps  of  men- 
tal pains,  but  as  to  any  discourse  arresting  a  physical  ache, — 
you  might  as  well  take  a  pin  to  pin  a  bull  with.  Besides,  the 
poor  women  wanted  comforting  themselves.  Gracious  Heaven ! 
Think  of  two  single  females,  with  a  sick,  perhaps  an  expiring 
parent — shut  up  in  a  hired  coach,  on  a  stormy  night,  in  a  foreign 
land — ay,  in  one  of  its  dreariest  places.  The  sympathy  of  a 
third  party,  even  a  stranger,  would  have  been  some  support  to 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  27 

them,  but  all  they  could  get  by  their  most  earnest  appeals  to  the 
driver  was  a  couple  of  unintelligible  syllables. 

If  they  had  only  possessed  a  cordial — a  flask  of  eau  de  vie! 
Such  a  thing  had  indeed  been  proposed  and  prepared,  but  alas  ! 
Miss  Crane  had  wilfully  left  it  behind.  To  think  of  Propriety 
producing  such  a  travelling  accompaniment  as  a  brandy-bottle 
was  out  of  the  question.  You  might  as  well  have  looked  for 
claret  from  a  pitcher-plant ! 

In  the  mean  time  the  sick  man  continued  to  sigh  and 
moan — his  two  girls  could  feel  him  twisting  about  between 
them. 

"  Oh,  my  poor  dear  papa !"  murmured  Miss  Crane,  for  she  did 
not  "  father  "  him  even  in  that  extremity.  Then  she  groped  again 
despairingly  in  her  bag  for  the  smelling-bottle,  but  only  found 
instead  of  it  an  article  she  had  brought  along  with  her,  Heaven 
knows  why,  into  Germany — the  French  mark  ! 

"  Oh — ah — ugh  ! — hah  !"  grumbled  the  sufferer.  "  Am  I — te 
— die — on — the  road  !" 

"Is  he  to  die  on  the  road  !"  repeated  Miss  Crane  through 
the  front  window  to  the  coachman,  but  with  the  same  result  a* 
before ;  namely,  two  words  in  the  unknown  tongue. 

"  Ruth,  what  is  yar  vole  ?" 

Ruth  shook  her  head  in  the  dark. 

"  If  he  would  only  drive  faster !"  exclaimed  Miss  Crane,  <«*i 
again  she  talked  through  the  front  window.  "  My  good  man — " 
(Gefallig?)  "  Ruth,  what's  gefallish?"  But  Miss  Ruth  was  as 
much  in  the  dark  as  ever.  "  Do,  do,  do,  make  haste  to  some- 
where— "  ( Ja  wolh  !)  That  phlegmatic  driver  would  drive  her 
crazy  ! 

Poor  Miss  Crane  !     Poor  Miss  Ruth  1     Poor  Reverend  T.  C. ! 


28  WHIMSICALITIES. 

My  heart  bleeds  for  them — and  yet  they  must  remain  perhaps 
for  a  full  hour  to  come  in  that  miserable  condition.  But  no — 
hark — that  guttural  sound  which  like  a  charm  arrests  every  horse 
in  Germany  as  soon  as  uttered — "  Burr-r-r-r-r  !" 

The  coach  stops  ;  and  looking  out  on  her  own  side  through 
the  rain  Miss  Crane  perceives  a  low  dingy  door,  over  which  by 
help  of  a  lamp  she  discovers  a  white  board,  with  some  great 
black  fowl  painted  on  it,  and  a  word  underneath  that  to  her 
English  eyes  suggests  a  difficulty  in  procuring  fresh  eggs. 
Whereas  the  Alder,  instead  of  addling,  hatches  brood  after  brood 
every  year,  till  the  number  is  quite  wonderful,  of  little  red  and 
black  eagles. 

However,  the  Royal  Bird  receives  the  distressed  travellers  un- 
der its  wing ;  but  my  pen,  though  a  steel  one,  shrinks  from  the 
labour  of  scrambling  and  hoisting  them  from  the  Lohn  Kutch 
into  the  Gast  Haus.  In  plump,  there  they  are — in  the  best  inn's 
Dest  room,  yet  not  a  whit  preferable  to  the  last  chamber  that 
lodged  the  "  great  Villiers."     But  hark,  they  whisper, 

Gracious  powers  !  Ruth  !        ) 

„      .  ,  .p.  .    ...    ,   }  What  a  wretched  hole ! 

Gracious  powers  !  Pnscilla  !  \ 


CHAPTER   IX. 

I  take  it  for  granted  that  no  English  traveller  would  willingly 
lay  up — unless  particularly  inn-disposed — at  an  Inn.  Still  less 
at  a  German  one  ;  and  least  of  all  at  a  Prussian  public-house,  in 
a  rather  private  Prussian  village.  To  be  far  from  well,  and  far 
from  well  lodged— to  be  ill,  and  ill  attended— to  be  poorly,  and 
poorly  fed— to  be  in  a  bad  way,  and  a  bad  bed.— But  let  us  pull 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  29 

up,  with  ideal  reins,  an  imaginary  nag,  at  such  an  outlandish 
Hostelrie,  and  take  a  peep  at  its  "  Entertainment  for  Man  and 
Horse." 

Bur-r-r-r-r-rrrr ! 

The  nag  stops  as  if  charmed — and  as  cool  and  comfortable  as 
a  cucumber — at  least  till  it  is  peppered — for  your  German  is  so 
tender  of  his  beast  that  he  would  hardly  allow  his  greyhound  to 
turn  a  hair — 

Now  then,  for  a  shout ;  and  remember  that  in  Iileinewinkel,  it 
will  serve  just  as  well  to  cry  "  Boxkeeper  !  "  as  "  Ostler !  "  but 
look,  tbere  is  some  one  coming  from  the  inn-door. 

'lis  Katchen  herself — with  her  bare  head,  her  bright  blue 
gown,  her  scarlet  apron — and  a  huge  rye-loaf  under  her  left  arm. 
Her  right  hand  grasps  a  knife.  How  plump  and  pleasant  she 
looks !  and  how  kindly  she  smiles  at  every  body,  including  the 
horse !  But  see — she  stops,  and  shifts  the  position  of  the  loaf. 
She  presses  it — as  if  to  sweeten  its  sourness — against  her  soft, 
palpitating  bosom,  the  very  hemisphere  that  holds  her  maiden 
heart.  And  now  she  begins  to  cut — or  rather  haggle — for  the 
knife  is  blunt,  and  the  bread  is  hard ;  but  she  works  with  good 
will,  and  still  hugging  the  loaf  closer  and  closer  to  her  comely 
self,  at  last  severs  a  liberal  slice  from  the  mass.  Nor  is  she  con- 
tent to  merely  give  it  to  her  client,  but  holds  it  out  with  her  own 
hand  to  be  eaten,  till  the  last  morsel  is  taken  from  among  hei 

ruddy  fingers  by  the  lips of  a  sweet  little  chubby  urchin  ? — 

no — of  our  big,  bony  iron-gray  post-horse  ! 

Now  then,  Courteous  Reader,  let  us  step  into  the  Stube,  or 
Traveller's  Room ;  and  survey  the  fare  and  the  accommodation 
prepared  for  us  bipeds.  Look  at  that  bare  floor — and  that  dreary 
stove — and  those  smoky  dingy  walls — and  for  a  night's  lodging, 


30 


WHIMSICALITIES. 


yonder  wooden  trough — far  less  desirable  than  a  shake-down  of 
clean  straw. 

Then  for  the  victualling,  pray  taste  that  Pythagorean  soup — 
and  that  drowned  beef — and  the  rotten  pickle-cabbage — and 
those  terrible  Hog-Cartridges — and  that  lump  of  white  soap, 
flavoured  with  carraways,  alias  ewe-milk  cheese — 

And  now  just  sip  that  Essigberger,  sharp  and  sour  enough  to 
provoke  the  "  dura  ilia  Messorum"  intb  an  Iliac  Passion — and  the 
terebinthine  Krug  Bier  !  "Would  you  not  rather  dine  at  the 
cheapest  ordinary  at  one,  with  all  its  niceties  and  nastities,  plain 
cooked  in  a  London  cellar  ?  And  for  a  night's  rest  would  you 
not  sooner  seek  a  bed  in  the  Bedford  Nursery  ?  So  much  for 
the  "  Entertainment  for  Man  and  Horse" — a  clear  proof,  ay.  as 
clear  as  the  Author's  own  proof,  with  the  date  under  his  own 
hand — 


GOOD  ENTERTAINMENT  FOR  MAN  AND  HORSE. 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  31 

Of  what,  sir  ? 

Why  that  Dean  Swift's  visit  to  Germany — if  ever  he  did  visit 
Germany — must  have  been  prior  to  his  inditing  the  Fourth  Voy- 
age of  Captain  Lemuel  Gulliver, — namely  to  the  Land  of  the 
Houyhnhnms  and  the  Yahoos,  where  the  horses  were  better 
boarded  and  lodged  than  mankind. 


CHAPTER  X. 

To  return  to  the  afflicted  trio — the  horrified  Miss  Crane,  the 
desolate  Ruth,  and  the  writhing  Reverend  T.  C. — in  the  small 
sordid,  smoky,  dark,  dingy,  dirty,  musty,  fusty,  dusty  best  room 
at  the  Alder.     The  most  miserable  "  party  in  a  parlour " 

"  'Twas  their  own  faults  !  "  exclaims  a  shadowy  Personage,  with 
peculiarly  bard  features — and  yet  not  harder  than  they  need  to 
be,  considering  against  how  many  things,  and  how  violently,  she 
sets  her  face.  But  when  did  Prejudice  ever  look  prepossessing  ? 
Never — since  the  French  wore  shoes  a  la  Dryade! 

"  'Twas  their  own  faults,"  she  cries,  "  for  going  abroad.  Why 
couldn't  they  stay  comfortably  at  home,  at  Laburnam  House  ?  " 

"  Lebanon,  Ma'am." 

"  Well,  Lebanon.  Or  they  might  have  gone  up  the  Wye,  or 
up  the  Thames.  I  hate  the  Rhine.  What  business  had  they  in 
Prussia?  And  of  course  they  went  through  Holland.  I  hate 
flats ! " 

"  Nevertheless,  madam,  I  have  visited  each  of  those  countries, 
and  have  found  much  to  admire  in  both.     For  example " 

"  Oh,  pray  don't !  I  hate  to  hear  you  say  so.  I  hate  every 
Vody  who  doesn't  hate  every  thing  foreign." 

"  Possibly,  madam,  you  have  never  been  abroad  ? " 


32  WHIMSICALITIES. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  once  went  over  to  Calais — and  have  hated  my- 
self ever  since.     I  hate  the  Continent ! " 

"  For  what  reason,  madam  ?  " 

"  Pshaw !  I  hate  to  give  reasons.  I  hate  the  Continent — 
because  it's  so  large." 

"  Then  you  would,  perhaps,  like  one  of  the  Hebrides  ? " 

"  No — I  hate  the  Scotch.  But  what  has  that  to  do  with 
your  Schoolmistress  abroad  ? — I  hate  governesses — and  her  Re- 
verend sick  father  with  his  ridiculous  spasms — I  hate  Dissenters 
— They're  not  High  Church." 

"  Nay,  my  dear  madam,  you  are  getting  a  little  uncharitable." 

"  Charity  !  I  hate  its  name.  It's  a  mere  shield  thrown  over 
hateful  people.  How  are  we  to  love  those  we  like  properly,  if 
we  do  not  hate  the  others  ?     As  the  Corsair  says, 

'  My  very  love  to  thee  is  hate  to  them.' 

But  I  hate  Byron." 

"  As  a  man,  ma'am,  or  as  an  author  ? " 

"  Both.     But  I  hate  all  authors — except  Dr.  Johnson." 

"  True — he  liked  '  a  good  hater.' " 

"  Well,  sir,  and  if  he  did  I  He  was  quite  in  the  right,  and  I 
hate  that  Lord  Chesterfield  for  quizzing  him.  But  he  was  only 
a  Lord  among  wits.     Oh,  how  I  hate  the  aristocracy  ! " 

"  You  do,  madam ! " 

"  Yes — they  have  such  prejudices.  And  then  they're  so  fond  of 
going  abroad.  Nothing  but  going  to  Paris,  Rome,  Naples,  Old 
Jerusalem,  and  New  York.     I  hate  the  Americans — don't  you  ?" 

"  Why,  really,  madam,  your  superior  discernment  and  nice  taste 
may  discover  national  bad  qualities  that  escape  less  vigilant  ob- 
servers." 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  33 

"  Phoo,  plioo — I  hate  flummery.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do 
what  an  American  is  called — and  if  there's  one  name  I  hate 
more  than  another,  it's  Jonathan.  But  to  go  back  to  Germany, 
and  those  that  go  there.  Talk  of  Pilgrims  of  the  Rhine ! — I 
hate  that  Bulwer.  Yes,  they  set  out,  indeed,  like  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress, and  see  Lions  and  Beautiful  Houses,  and  want  Interpreters, 
and  spy  at  Delectable  Mountains — but  there  it  ends  ;  for  what 
with  queer  caps  and  outlandish  blowses — I  hate  smock-frocks — 
they  come  back  hardly  like  Christians.  There's  my  own  husband, 
Mr.  P. — I  quite  hate  to  see  him  ! " 

"  Indeed ! " 

"  Yes — I  hate  to  cast  my  eyes  on  him.  He  hasn't  had  his 
hair  cut  these  twelvemonths — I  hate  long  hair — and  when  he 
shaves  he  leaves  two  little  black  tails  on  his  upper  lip,  and  another 
on  his  chin,  as  if  he  was  a  real  ermine." 

"  A  moustache,  madam,  is  in  fashion." 

"  Yes,  and  a  beard,  too,  like  a  Rabbi — but  I  hate  Jews.  And 
then  Mr.  P.  has  learnt  to  smoke — I  hate  smoke — I  hate  tobacco 
— and  I  hate  to  be  called  a  Frow — and  to  be  spun  round  and 
round  till  I  am  as  sick  as  a  dog — for  I  hate  waltzing.  Then 
don't  he  stink  the  whole  house  with  decayed  cabbage  for  his  sour 
crout — I  hate  German  cookery — and  will  have  oiled  melted  but- 
ter because  they  can't  help  it  abroad  ? — aud  there's  nothing  so 
hateful  as  oiled  butter.  What  next  ?  Why,  he  won't  drink  my 
home-made  wine — at  least  if  I  don't  call  it  Hock,  or  Rude-some- 
thing, and  give  it  him  in  a  green  glaas.  I  hate  such  nonsense. 
As  for  conversing,  whatever  we  begin  upon,  if  it's  Harfordshire, 
he's  sure  to  get  at  last  to  the  tiptop  of  Herring-Brightshine — I 
hate  such  rambling.  But  that's  not  half  so  hateful  as  his  Mono- 
manium." 


34  WHIMSICALITIES. 

"  His  what,  madam  ?" 

"  Why  his  hankering  so  after  suicide  (1  do  hate  Charlotte  and 
Werter,)  that  one  can 't  indulge  in  the  least  tiff  but  he  threatens 
to  blow  out  his  brains  !" 

"  Seriously  ?" 

"  Seriously,  sir.  I  hate  joking.  And  then  there  are  his  horrid 
noises ;  for  since  he  was  in  Germany  he  fancies  that  every  body 
must  be  musical — I  hate  such  wholesale  notions — and  so  sings 
all  day  long,  without  a  good  note  in  his  voice.  So  much  for 
Foreign  Touring  !  But  pray  go  on,  sir,  with  the  story  of  your 
Schoolmistress  Abroad.     I  hate  suspense." 


CHAPTER  XL 

Now  the  exclamation  of  Miss  Crane — "  Gracious  heavens, 
Ruth,  what  a  wretched  hole !" — was  not  a  single  horse-power 
too  strong  for  the  occasion.  Her  first  glance  round  the  squalid 
room  at  the  Alder  convinced  her  that  whatever  might  be  the 
geographical  distance  on  the  map,  she  was  morally  two  hundred 
and  thirty-seven  thousand  miles  from  Home.  That  is  to  say,  it 
was  about  as  distant  as  the  Earth  from  the  Moon.  And  truly 
had  she  been  transferred,  no  matter  how,  to  that  Planet,  with  its 
no-atmosphere,  she  could  not  have  been  more  out  of  her  element. 
In  fact,  she  felt  for  some  moments  as  if  she  must  sink  on  the  floor 
— just  as  some  delicate  flower,  transplanted  into  a  strange  soil, 
gives  way  in  every  green  fibre,  and  droops  to  the  mould  in  a 
vegetable  fainting-fit,  from  which  only  time  and  the  water-pot 
can  recover  it. 

Her  younger  sister  Miss  Ruth,  was  somewhat  less  disconcerted. 
She  had  by  her  position  the  greater  share  in  the  active  duties  at 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  35 

Lebanon  House  :  and  under  ordinary  circumstances,  would  not 
have  been  utterly  at  a  loss  what  to  do  for  the  comfort  or  relief 
of  her  parent.  But  in  every  direction  in  which  her  instincl  and 
habits  would  have  prompted  her  to  look,  the  materials  she 
sought  were  deficient.  There  was  no  easy-chair — no  fire  to 
wheel  it  to — no  cushion  to  shake  up — no  cupboard  to  go  to — no 
female  friend  to  consult — no  Miss  Parfitt — no  Cook — no  John  to 
send  for  the  Doctor.  No  English — no  French — nothing  but  that 
dreadful  "  Gefallig  "  or  "  Ja  wohl " — and  the  equally  incom- 
prehensible "  Gnadige  Frau !" 

As  for  the  Reverend  T.  C,  he  sat  twisting  about  on  his  hard 
wooden  chair,  groaning,  and  making  ugly  face3,  as  much  from 
peevishness  and  impatience  as  from  pain,  and  indeed  sometimes 
plainly  levelled  his  grimaces  at  the  simple  Germans  who  stood 
round,  staring  at  him,  it  must  be  confessed,  as  unceremoniously 
as  if  he  had  been  only  a  great  fish,  gasping  and  wriggling  on  dry 
land. 

In  the  mean  time,  his  bewildered  daughters  held  him  one  by 
the  right  hand,  the  other  by  the  left,  and  earnestly  watched  his 
changing  countenance,  unconsciously  imitating  some  of  its  most 
violent  contortions.  It  did  no  good,  of  course ;  but  what  else 
was  to  be  done  ?  In  fact,  they  were  as  much  puzzled  with  their 
patient  as  a  certain  worthy  tradesman,  when  a  poor  shattered 
creature  on  a  shutter  was  carried  into  his  Floor-cloth  Manufac- 
tory by  mistake  for  the  Hospital.  The  only  thing  that  occurred 
to  either  of  the  females  was  to  oppose  every  motion  he  made, — 
for  fear  it  should  be  wrong,  and  accordingly  whenever  he  at 
tempted  to  lean  towards  the  right  side,  they  invariably  bent  him 
as  much  to  the  left. 

"  Der  herr,"  said  the  German  coachman,  turning  towards  Miss 


36  WHIMSICALITIES. 

Priscilla,  with  his  pipe  hanging  from  his  teeth,  and  venting  a  puff 
of  smoke  that  made  her  recoil  three  steps  backwards — "  Der  herr 
ist  sehr  krank." 

The  last  word  had  occurred  so  frequently,  on  the  organ  of  the 
Schoolmistress,  that  it  had  acquired  in  her  mind  some  important 
significance. 

"  Ruth,  what  is  krank  ?" 

"  How  should  I  know,"  retorted  Ruth,  with  an  asperity  apt  to 
accompany  intense  excitement  and  perplexity,  "  In  English,  it's 
a  thing  that  helps  to  pull  the  bell.  But  look  at  papa — do  help 
to  support  him — you're  good  for  nothing." 

"  I  am  indeed,"  murmured  poor  Miss  Priscilla,  with  a  gentle 
shake  of  her  head,  and  a  low,  slow,  sigh  of  acquiescence.  Alas ! 
as  she  ran  over  the  catalogue  of  her  accomplishments,  the  more 
she  remembered  what  she  could  do  for  her  sick  parent,  the  more 
helpless  and  useless  she  appeared.  For  instance,  she  could  have 
embroidered  him  a  nightcap — 

Or  netted  him  a  silk  purse — 

Or  plaited  him  a  guard-chain — 

Or  cut  him  out  a  watch-paper — 

Or  ornamented  Ins  braces  with  bead-work — 

Or  embroidered  his  waistcoat — 

Or  worked  him  a  pair  of  slippers — 

Or  open-worked  his  pocket-handkerchief. 

She  could  even — if  such  an  operation  would  have  been  comforting 
or  salutary — have  rough-casted  him  with  shell-work — 

Or  coated  him  with  red  or  black  seals — 
Or  encrusted  him  with  blue  alum — 
Or  stuck  him  over  with  coloured  wafers — 
Or  festooned  him — 

But  alas !  alas !  alas !  what  would  it  have  availed  her  poor  dear 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  37 

papa  in  the  spasmodics,  if  she  had  even  festooned  him,  from  top 
to  toe,  with  little  rice-paper  roses ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  Mercy  on  me ! " 

[N.  B.  Not  on  Me,  the  Author,  but  on  a  little  dwarfish  "  smooth 
legged  Bantam"  of  a  woman,  with  a  sharp  nose,  a  shrewish  mouth, 
and  a  pair  of  very  active  black  eyes — and  withal  as  brisk  and 
bustling  in  her  movements  as  any  Partlet  with  ten  chicks  of  her 
own,  and  six  adopted  ones  from  another  hen.] 

"  Mercy  on  me !  Why  the  poor  gentleman  would  die  whiles 
them  lumpish  foreigners  and  his  two  great  helpless  daughters 
were  looking  on !  As  for  that  Miss  Priscilla — she's  like  a  born 
idiot.  Fancy-work  him,  indeed !  I've  no  patience — as  if  with 
all  her  Berlin  wools  and  patterns,  she  could  fancy-work  him  into 
a  picture  of  health.  Why  did'nt  she  think  of  something  comfort- 
ing for  his  inside,  instead  of  embellishing  his  out — something  as 
would  agree,  in  lieu  of  filagree,  with  his  case  ?  A  little  good  hot 
brandy-and-water  with  a  grate  of  ginger,  or  some  nice  red-wine 
negus  with  nutmeg  and  toast — and  then  get  him  to  bed,  and 
send  off  for  the  doctor.  I'll  warrant,  if  I'd  been  there,  I'd  have 
unspasmed  him  in  no  time.  I'd  have  whipped  off  his  shoes  and 
stockings,  and  had  his  poor  feet  in  hot  water  afore  he  knew 
where  he  was." 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt,  ma'am,  of  the  warmth  of  your  hu- 
manity." 

"  Warmth  !  it's  every  thing.  I'd  have  just  given  him  a  touch 
of  the  warming-pan,  and  then  smothered  him  in  blankets.  Stick 
him  all  over  with  little  roses !  stuff  and  nonsense — stick  him  into 


38  WHIMSICALITIES. 

his  grave  at  once !  Miss  Crane  ?  Miss  Goose  rather.  A  poor 
helpless  Sawney  !  I  wonder  what  women  come  into  the  world 
fur  if  it  isn't  to  be  good  nusses.  For  my  part,  if  he  had  been  my 
sick  father,  I'd  have  had  him  on  his  legs  again  in  a  jiffy — and 
then  he  might  have  got  crusty  with  blue  alum  or  whatever  else 
he  preferred." 

"  But  madam — " 

"  Such  perfect  apathy  !     Needlework  and  embroidery,  forsooth  !" 

"  But  madam — " 

"  To  have  a  dying  parent  before  her  eyes — and  think  of  no- 
thing but  trimming  his  jacket ! " 

«  But—" 

"  A  pretty  Schoolmistress,  truly,  to  set  such  an  example  to  the 
rising  generation !  As  if  she  couldn't  have  warmed  him  a  soft 
flanning !  or  given  him  a  few  Lavender  Drops,  or  even  got  down 
a  little  real  Turkey  or  calcined  Henry." 

"  Of  course,  madam — or  a  little  Moxon.  And  in  regard  t< 
Conchology." 

"  Conk  what  ?" 

"  Or  as  to  Chronology.  Could  you  have  supplied  the  Patient 
with  a  few  prominent  dates  ?  " 

"  Dates  !  what  those  stony  things — for  a  spasmodic  stomach  !" 

"Are  you  really  at  home  in  Arrowsmith  ?" 

"  You  mean  Arrow-root." 

"  Are  you  an  adept  in  Butler's  Exercises  ?" 

"  "What,  drawing  o'  corks  ?" 

"  Could  you  critically  examine  him  in  his  parts  of  speech — the 
rudiments  of  his  native  tongue  ?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  could.  And  if  it  was  white  and  furry,  there's 
fever." 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  39 

"Are  you  acquainted,  madam,  with  Lindley  Murray?" 

"  Why  no — I  can't  say  I  am.  My  own  medical  man  is  Mr. 
Prodgers." 

"  In  short,  could  you  prepare  a  mind  for  refined  intellectual  in- 
tercourse in  future  life,  with  a  strict  attention  to  religious  duties  ?" 

"  Prepare  his  mind — religious  duties  ? — Phoo,  phoo  !  he  warn't 
come  to  that ! " 

"  Excuse  me,  I  mean  to  ask,  ma'am,  whether  you  consider 
yourself  competent  to  instruct  Young  Ladies  in  all  those  usual 
branches  of  knowledge  and  female  accomplishments " 

"  Me  !  What  me  keep  a  'Cademy  !  Why,  I've  hardly  had 
an  <decation  myself,  but  was  accomplished  in  three  quarters  and 
a  bit  over.  Lor,  bless  you,  sir  !  I  should  be  as  much  at  sea,  as  a 
finishing-off  Governess,  as  a  bear  in  a  boat!" 

Exactly,  madam.  And  just  as  helpless,  useless,  and  powerless 
as  you  would  be  in  a  school-room,  even  so  helpless,  useless,  and 
powerless  was  Miss  Crane  whenever  she  happened  to  be  out  of 
one. — Yea,  as  utterly  flabbergasted  when  out  of  her  own  element, 
as  a  Jelly  Fish  on  Brighton  beach! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Relief  at  last  ! 

It  was  honest  Hans  the  hired  Coachman,  with  a  glass  of  some- 
thing in  his  hand,  which  after  a  nod  towards  the  Invalid,  to 
signify  (ho  destination  of  the  dose,  he  held  out  to  Miss  Priscilla, 
at  the  same  time  uttering  certain  gutterals,  as  if  asking  her 
approval  of  the  prescription. 

"  Ruth— what  is  Snaps  ?" 

"  Take  it  and  smell  it,"   replied  Miss  Ruth,  still   with  some 


40  WHIMSICALITIES. 

asperity,  as  if  annoyed  at  the  imbecility  of  her  senior :  but  se- 
cretly worried  by  her  own  deficiency  in  the  tongues.  The  truth 
is,  that  the  native  who  taught  French  with  the  Parisian  accent  at 
Lebanon  House,  the  Italian  Mistress  in  the  Prospectus,  and  Miss 
Ruth  who  professed  English  Grammar  and  Poetry,  were  all  one 
and  the  same  person  :  not  to  name  a  lady,  not  so  distinctly  put 
forward,  who  was  supposed  to  know  a  little  of  the  language  which 
is  spoken  at  Berlin.     Hence  her  annoyance. 

"  I  think,"  said  Miss  Priscilla,  holding  the  wine-glass  at  a  dis- 
creet distance  from  her  nose,  and  rather  prudishly  muffing  the 
liquor,  "  it  appears  to  me  that  it  is  some  sort  of  foreign  G." 

So  saying,  she  prepared  to  return  the  dram  to  the  kindly 
Kutscher,  but  her  professional  delicacy  instinctively  shrinking 
from  too  intimate  contact  Avith  the  hand  of  the  strange  man,  she 
contrived  to  let  go  of  the  glass  a  second  or  two  before  he  got  hold 
of  it,  and  the  Schnaps  fell,  with  a  crash,  to  the  ground. 

The  introduction  of  the  cordial  had,  however,  served  to  direct 
the  mind  of  Miss  Ruth  to  the  propriety  of  procuring  some  refresh- 
ment for  the  sufferer.  He  certainly  ought  to  have  something,  she 
said,  for  he  was  getting  quite  faint.  What  the  something  ought 
to  be  was  a  question  of  more  difficulty — but  the  scholastic  me- 
mory of  Miss  Priscilla  at  last  supplied  a  suggestion. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Ruth,  of  a  little  horehound  tea  ?" 

"  Well,  ask  for  it,"  replied  Miss  Ruth,  not  indeed  from  any 
faith  in  the  efficacy  of  the  article,  but  because  it  was  as  likely  to 
be  obtained  for  the  asking  for — in  English — as  any  thing  else. 
And  truly,  when  Miss  Crane  made  the  experiment,  the  Germans, 
one  and  all,  man  and  woman,  shook  their  heads  at  the  remedy, 
but  seemed  unanimously  to  recommend  a  certain  something 
else. 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  41 

"  Ruth — what  is  forstend  nix  ?" 

But  Ruth  was  silent. 

"  They  all  appear  to  think  very  highly  of  it  however,"  con- 
tinued Mis*  Priseilla,  "and  I  should  like  to  know  where  to 
find  it." 

"  It  will  be  in  the  kitchen,  if  anywhere,"  said  Miss  Ruth, 
while  the  invalid — whether  from  a  fresh  access  of  pain,  or  only 
at  the  tantalizing  nature  of  the   discussion — gave  .a  low  groan. 

"  My  poor  dear  papa  !  He  will  sink — he  will  perish  from  ex- 
haustion !"  exclaimed  the  terrified  Miss  Priseilla ;  and  with  a 
desperate  resolution,  quite  foreign  to  her  nature,  she  volunteered 
on  the  forlorn  hope,  and  snatching  up  a  candle,  made  her  way 
without  thinking  of  the  impropriety  into  the  strange  kitchen. 
The  House-wife  and  her  maid  slowly  followed  the  Schoolmistress 
and  whether  from  national  phlegm  or  intense  curiosity,  or  both 
together,  offered  neither  help  nor  hindrance  to  the  foreign  lady, 
but  stood  by,  and  looked  on  at  her  operations. 

And  here  be  it  noted,  in  order  to  properly  estimate  the  diffi 
culties  which  lay  in  her  path,  that  the  Governess  had  no  distinct 
recollection  of  having  ever  been  in  a  kitchen  in  the  course  of  her 
life.  It  was  a  Terra  Incognita — a  place  of  which  she  literally 
knew  less  than  of  Japan.  Indeed,  the  laws,  customs,  ceremonies, 
mysteries,  and  utensils  of  the  kitchen  were  more  strange  to  her 
than  those  of  the  Chinese.  For  aught  she  knew  the  Cook  her- 
self was  the  dresser ;  and  a  rolling-pin  might  have  a  head  at  one 
end  and  a  sharp  point  at  the  other.  The  Jack,  according  to 
Natural  History,  was  a  fish.  The  flour-tub,  as  Botany  suggested, 
might  contain  an  Orange-tree,  and  the  range  might  be  that  of 
the  Barometer.  As  to  the  culinary  works,  in  which  almost  every 
female  dabbles,  she  had  never  dipped  into  one  of  them,  and  knew 


42  WHIMSICALITIES. 

no  more  how  to  boil  an  egg  than  if  she  had  been  the  Hen  that 
laid  it,  or  the  Cock  that  cackled  over  it.  Still  a  natural  turn  for 
the  art,  backed  by  a  good  bright  fire,  might  have  surmounted  her 
rawness. 

But  Miss  Crane  was  none  of  those  natural  geniuses  in  the  art 
who  can  extemporize  Flint  Broth — and  toss  up  something  out  of 
nothing  at  the  shortest  notice.  It  is  doubtful  if,  with  the  whole 
Midsummer  holidays  before  her,  she  could  successfully  have  un- 
dertaken a  pancake — or  have  got  up  even  a  hasty-pudding  with- 
out a  quarter's  notice.  For  once,  however,  she  was  impelled  by 
the  painful  exigency  of  the  hour  to  test  her  ability,  and  finding 
certain  ingredients  to  her  hand,  and  subjecting  them  to  the  best 
or  simplest  process  that  occurred  to  her,  in  due  time  she  returned, 
cup  in  hand,  to  the  sick  room,  and  proffered  to  her  poor  dear 
papa  the  result  of  her  first  maiden  effort  in  cookery. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  Ruth,  naturally  curious,  as  well  as  anxious 
as  to  the  nature  of  s6  novel  an  experiment. 

"  Pah  !  pub  !  poof — phew  !  chut !"  spluttered  the  Reverend  T. 
C,  unceremoniously  getting  rid  of  the  first  spoonful  of  the  mixture. 
"  It's  paste — common  paste  !" 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Poor  Miss  Crane ! 

The  failure  of  her  first  little  culinary  experiment  reduced  her 
again  to  despair.  If  there  be  not  already  a  Statue  of  Disappoint- 
ment she  would  have  served  for  its  model.  It  would  have  melted 
an  Iron  Master  to  have  seen  her  with  her  eyes  fixed  intently  on 
the  unfortunate  cup  of  paste,  as  if  asking  herself  mentally,  was  it 
possible  that  what  she  had  prepared  with  such  pains  for  the  re- 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  43 

freshment  of  a  sick  parent,  was  only  fit  for  what  ? — Why,  for  the 
false  tin  stomach  of  a  healthy  bill  sticker  ! 

Dearly  as  she  rated  her  professional  accomplishments  and  ac- 
quirements, I  verily  believe  that  at  that  cruel  moment  she  would 
have  given  up  all  her  consummate  skill  in  Fancy  Work,  to  have 
known  how  to  make  a  basin  of  gruel !  Proud  as  she  was  of  her 
embroidery,  she  would  have  exchanged  her  cunning  in  it  for  that 
of  the  plainest  cook, — for  oh !  of  what  avail  her  Tent  Stitch, 
Chain  Stitch,  German  Stitch,  or  Satin  Stitch,  to  relieve  or  soothe 
a  suffering  father,  afflicted  with  back  stitch,  front  stitch,  side  stitch 
and  cross  stitch  into  the  bargain  ? 

Nay,  of  what  use  was  her  solider  knowledge  ? — for  example,  in 
History,  Geography,  Botany,  Conchology,  Geology,  and  Astro- 
nomy ?  Of  what  effect  was  it  that  she  knew  the  scientific  names 
for  coal  and  slate, — or  what  comfort  that  she  could  tell  him  how 
many  stars  there  are  in  Cassiopeia's  Chair  whilst  he  was  twisting 
with  agony  on  a  hard  wooden  one  ? 

"  It's  no  use  talking ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Ruth,  after  a  long 
silence.!  "  we  must  have  medical  advice  ! " 

But  how  to  obtain  it?  To  call  in  even  an  apothecary,  one 
must  call  in  his  own  language,  and  the  two  sisters  between  them 
did  not  possess  German  enough,  High  or  Low,  to  call  for  a  Doc- 
tor's boy.  The  hint,  however,  was  not  lost  on  the  Reverend  T. 
C,  who,  with  a  perversity  not  unusual,  seemed  to  think  that  he 
could  diminish  his  own  sufferings  by  inflicting  pain  on  those 
about  him.  Accordingly,  he  no  sooner  overheard  the  wish  for  a 
Doctor,  than  with  renewed  moanings  and  contortions  he  muttered 
the  name  of  a  drug  that  he  felt  sure  would  relieve  him.  But  the 
physic  was  as  difficult  to  procure  as  the  physician.  In  vain  Miss 
Ruth  turned  in  succession  to  the  Host,  the  Hostess,  the  Waiter, 


44  WHIMSICALITIES. 

and  Hans  the  Coachman,  and  to  each,  separately,  repeated  the 
word  "  Ru-bub."  The  Host,  the  Hostess,  the  Maid,  the  Waiter, 
and  Hans  the  Coachman,  only  shook  their  heads  in  concert,  and 
uttered  in  chorus  the  old  "  forstend  nicht." 

"  Oh  I  do  wish,"  exclaimed  Miss  Crane,  with  a  tone  and  a  ges- 
ture of  the  keenest  self-reproach,  "  how  I  do  wish  that  I  had 
brought  Buchan's  Domestic  Medicine  abroad  Avith  me,  instead  of 
Thomson's  Seasons ! " 

"  And  of  what  use  would  that  have  been  without  the  medicine- 
chest?  "  asked  Miss  Ruth  ;  "  for  I  don't  pretend  to  write  prescrip- 
tions in  German." 

"  That's  very  true,"  said  Miss  Crane,  with  a  long  deep  sigh — 
whilst  the  sick  man,  from  jiain  or  wilfulness,  Heaven  alone  knew 
which — gave  a  groan,  so  terrific  that  it  startled  even  the  phleg- 
matic Germans. 

"  My  papa ! — my  dear  papa  !  "  shrieked  the  agitated  governess ; 
and  with  some  confused  notions  of  a  fainting-fit — for  he  had 
closed  his  eyes, — and  still  conscious  of  a  cup  in  her  hand,  though 
not  of  its  contents,  she  chucked  the  paste — that  twice  unfortunate 
paste ! — into  the  face  of  her  beloved  parent ! 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  And  serve  him  right  too  ! "  cries  the  little  smart  bantamlike 
woman  already  introduced  to  the  Courteous  Reader.  "  An  old 
good-for-nothing !  to  sham  worse  than  he  was,  and  play  on  the 
tender  feelings  of  two  affectionate  daughters!  I'd  have  pasted 
him  myself  if  he  had  been  fifty  fathers!  Not  that  I  think  a  bit 
the  better  of  that  Miss  Crane,  who  after  all,  did  not  do  it  on  pur- 
pose.    She's  as  great  a  gawky  as  ever.     To  think  with  all  her 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  45 

schooling  she  couldn't  get  a  doctor  fetched  for  the  old  gentle- 
man! " 

"  But,  my  dear  madam,  she  was  ignorant  of  the  language." 

"  Ignorant  of  fiddlesticks  !  How  do  the  deaf  and  dumb  people 
do  ?  If  she  couldn't  talk  to  the  Germans  she  might  have  made 
signs." 

Impossible !  Pray  remember  that  Miss  Crane  was  a  school- 
mistress, and  of  the  ancien  regime,  in  whose  code  all  face-making, 
posturing,  and  gesticulations,  were  high  crimes  and  misdemean- 
ours. Many  a  little  Miss  Gubbins  or  Miss  Wiggins  she  had 
punished  with  an  extra  task,  if  not  with  the  rod  itself,  for  nod- 
ding, winking,  or  talking  with  their  fingers ;  and  is  it  likely  that 
she  would  personally  have  had  recourse  to  signs  and  signals  for 
which  she  had  punished  her  pupils  with  such  severity  ?  Do  you 
think  that  with  her  rigid  notions  of  propriety,  and  her  figure,  she 
would  ever  have  stooped  to  what  she  would  have  called  buf- 
foonery ? 

"  Why  to  be  sure,  if  you  haven't  high-coloured  her  picture  she 
is  starched  and  frumpish  enough,  and  only  fit  for  a  place  among 
the  wax-work ! " 

And  besides,  supposing  physiognomical  expression  as  well  as 
gesticulation  to  be  included  in  sign-making,  this  Silent  Art  re- 
quires study  and  practice,  and  a  peculiar  talent !  Pray  did  you 
ever  see  Grimaldi  ? 

"  What,  Joey  ?  Did  I  ever  see  Lonnon  !  Did  I  ever  go  to  the 
Wells  ?" 

0  rare  Joe  Grimaldi !  Great  as  was  my  admiration  of  the 
genius  of  that  inimitable  clown,  never,  never  did  it  rise  to  its  true 
pitch  till  I  had  been  cast  all  abroad  in  a  foreign  country  without 
anv  knowledge  of  its  language  !     To  the  richness  of  his  fun — to 


4:6  WHIMSICALITIES. 

his  wonderful  agility — to  his  unique  singing  and  his  grotesque 
dancing,  I  perhaps  had  done  ample  justice — but  never,  till  I  had 
broken  down  in  fifty  pantomimical  attempts  of  my  own — nay,  in 
twice  fifty  experiments  in  dumb  show — did  I  properly  appreciate 
his  extraordinary  power  of  making  himself  understood  without 
being  on  speaking  terms  with  his  company.  His  performance 
was  never,  like  mine,  an  Acted  Riddle.  A  living  Telegraph,  he 
never  failed  in  conveying  his  intelligence,  but  signalled  it  with 
such  distinctness,  that  lfis  meaning  was  visible  to  the  dullest 
capacity. 

"  And  your  attempts  in  the  line,  sir  ?" 

Utter  failures.  Often  and  often  have  I  gone  through  as  many 
physical  manoeuvres  as  the  Englishman  in  "  Rabelais,"  who  ar- 
gued by  signs;  but  constantly  without  explaining  my  meaning, 
and  consequently  without  obtaining  my  object.  From  all  which, 
my  dear  madam,  I  have  derived  this  moral,  that  he  who  visits  a 
foreign  country,  without  knowing  the  language,  ought  to  be 
prepared  beforehand  either  to  act  like  a  Clown,  or  to  look  like 
a  Fool. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

It  was  a  good-natured  act  of  honest  Hans  the  coachman — and 
especially  after  the  treatment  of  his  Schnapps — but  seeing  the 
Englishers  at  a  dead  lock,  and  partly  guessing  at  the  caiise  of 
their  distress — he  quietly  went  to  the  stable,  saddled  one  of  his  own 
horses,  and  rode  off  in  quest  of  a  medical  man.  Luckily  he  soon 
met  with  the  personage  he  wanted,  whom  with  great  satisfaction 
he  ushered  into  the  little  dim,  dirty  parlour  at  the  Black  Eagle, 
and  introduced,  as  well  as  he  could,  to  the  Foreigners  in  Distress. 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  47 

Now  the  Physician  who  regularly  visited  at  Lebanon  House, 
was,  of  course,  one  of  the  Old  School ;  and  in  correctness  of  cos- 
tume and  professional  formality  was  scarcely  inferior  to  the  imma- 
culate lady  who  presided  over  that  establishment.  There  was  no 
mistaking  him,  like  some  modern  practitioners,  for  a  merchant  or 
a  man  about  town.  He  was  as  carefully  made  up  as  a  prescription 
— and  between  the  customary  sables,  and  a  Chesterfieldian  cour 
tesy,  appeared  as  a  Doctor  of  the  old  school  always  used  to  do — ■ 
like  a  piece  of  sticking-plaster — black,  polished,  and  healing. 

Judge  then,  of  the  horror  and  amazement  of  the  Schoolmis- 
tress, when  she  saw  before  her  a  great  clumsy-built  M.  D.  enve- 
loped in  a  huge  gray  cloak,  with  a  cape  that  fell  below  his  elbows, 
and  his  head  covered  with  what  she  had  always  understood  was 
a  jockey -cap  ! 

"Gracious  Heaven  ! — why,  he's  a  horse-doctor!" 

"Doctor? — ja  wohl,"  said  Hans,  with  a  score  of  affirmative 
little  nods ;  and  he  then  added  the  jjrofessional  grade  of  the 
party,  which  happened  to  be  one  of  a  most  uncouth  sound  to  an 
English  ear. 

"  Ruth,  what's  a  medicine  rat ! " 

"  Lord  knows,"  answered  Miss  Ruth,  "  the  language  is  as 
barbarous  as  the  people  ! " 

In  the  mean  time  the  Medicin  Rath  threw  off  his  huge  cloak 
and  displayed  a  costume  equally  at  variance  with  Miss  Crane's 
notions  of  the  proper  uniform  of  his  order.  No  black  coat,  no 
black  smalls,  no  black  silk  stockings — why  any  undertaker  in 
London  would  have  looked  more  like  a  doctor !  His  coat  was  a 
bright  brown  frock,  his  waistcoat  as  gay  and  variegated  as  her 
own  favourite  parterre  of  larkspurs,  and  his  trowsers  of  plum 
colour !     Of  her  own  accord  she.  would  not  have  called  him  in  to 


48  WHIMSICALITIES. 

a  juvenile  chicken-pock  or  a  nettlerash — and  there  he  was  to  treat 
full  grown  spasms  in  an  adult ! 

"  Je  suis  medecin,  monsieur,  a  votre  service,"  said  the  stranger, 
in  French  more  guttural  than  nasal,  and  with  a  bow  to  the  sick 
gentleman. 

"  Mais,  docteur,"  hastily  interposed  Miss  Ruth,  "  vous  etes  un 
docteur  a  cheval." 

This  translation  of  "  horse-doctor"  being  perfectly  unintelligible 
to  the  German,  he  again  addressed  himself  to  his  patient,  and 
proceeded  to  feel  his  pulse. 

"Papa  is  subject  to  spasms  in  his  chest,"  explained  Miss 
Crane. 

"Pshaw — nonsense  !"  whined  the  Reverend  T.  C,  "they're  in 
my  stomach." 

"  They're  in  his  stomach,"  repeated  Miss  Crane,  delicately  lay- 
ing her  own  hand,  by  way  of  explanation,  on  her  sternum. 

"  Monsieur  a  mange  du  diner  ?" 

"  Only  a  little  beef,"  said  Miss  Crane,  who  "  understood"  French 
but  "  did  not  speak  it." 

"  Seulement  un  petit  boeuf,"  translated  Miss  Ruth,  who  spoke 
French  but  did  not  understand  it. 

"  Oui — c'est  une  indigestion,  sans  doute,"  said  the  Doctor. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
Hark ! 

"  It's  shameful !  abominable !  atrcc'ous  !     It's  a  skit  on  all  the 
schoolmistresses — a  wicked  libel  on  the  whole  profession  !" 

"  But  my  dear  Mrs. " 

"  Don't  'dear'  me,  sir !     I  consider  myself  personally  insulted ! 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  49 

'  Manger  im  petty  boof ! '     As  if  a  governess  couldn't  speak  better 
French  than  that  !     Why,  it  moans  eating  a  little  bullock!" 

"  Precisely.     -Bo:af,  singular,  masculine,  a  bullock  or  ox." 

"  Ridiculous !  And  from  one  of  the  heads  of  a  seminary  ! 
Why,  sir,  not  to  speak  of  myself  or  the  teachers,  I  have  a  pupil  at 
Prospect  House,  and  only  twelve  years  of  age,  "who  speaks  French 
like  a  native." 

"  Of  where,  madam  ?" 

4i  Of  where,  sir  ? — why  of  all  France  to  be  sure,  and  Paris  in 
particular !" 

"  And  with  the  true  accent  ?' 

"  Yes,  sir,  with  all  the  accents — sharp,  grave  and  circumben- 
dibus— I  should  have  said  circumflex,  but  you  have  put  me  in 
a  fluster.  French !  why  it's  the  corner-stone  of  female  education. 
It's  universal,  sir,  from  her  ladyship  down  to  her  cook.  We 
could  neither  dress  ourselves  nor  our  dinners  without  it !  And 
that  the  Miss  Cranes  know  French  I  am  morally  certain,  for  I 
have  seen  it  in  their  Prospectus." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  madam.  But  you  are  of  course  aware  that 
there  are  two  sorts — French  French  and  English  French — and 
which  are  as  different  in  quality  as  the  foreign  cogniac  and  the 
British  Brandy." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  ardent  spirits,  sir.  And  as  to  the 
French  language,  I  am  acquainted  with  only  one  sort,  and  that 
is  what  is  taught  at  Prospect  House — at  three  guineas  a  quarter." 

"  And  do  all  your  young  ladies,  ma'am,  turn  out  such  profi- 
cients in  the  language  as  the  little  prodigy  you  have  just  men- 
tioned ? " 

"Proficient,  sir? — they  can't  help  it  in  my  establishment. 
Let  me  see — there's  Chambaud  on  Mondays — Wanostrocht  on 


50 


WHIMS  W  A  LITIES. 


Wednesdays — Telemaque  on  Fridays,  and  the  French  mark  every 
day  in  the  week." 

"  Madaino,  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  excellency  of  your  system. 
Nevertheless  it  is  quite  true  that  the  younger  Miss  Crane  made 
use  of  the  very  phrase  which  I  have  quoted.  And  what  is  more, 
.vhen  the  doctor  called  on  his  patient  the  next  morning,  he  was 
treated  with  quite  as  bad  language.  For  example,  when  he  in- 
quired after  her  papa — 

"  II  est  tres  mauvais,"  replied  Miss  Ruth  with  a  desponding 
shake  of  her  head.  "  II  a  avale  son  medecin, — et  il  n'est  pas 
mieux." 


doctor's  commons. 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  51 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

To  return  to  the  sick  chamber. 

Imagine  the  Rev.  T.  C.  still  sitting  and  moaning  in  his  uneasy 
chair,  the  disconsolate  Miss  Crane  helplessly  watching  the  pa- 
rental grimaces,  and  the  perplexed  Miss  Ruth  standing  in  a  brown 
study,  with  her  eyes  intently  fixed  on  a  sort  of  overgrown  child's 
crib,  which  occupied  one  dark  corner  of  the  dingy  apartment. 

"  It's  very  well,"  she  muttered  to  herself,  "  for  a  foreign  doctor 
to  say  '  laissez  le  coucher]  but  where  is  he  to  coucher  ?  "  Not 
surely  in  that  little  crib  of  a  thing,  which  will  only  add  the  cramp 
in  his  poor  legs  to  the  spasms  in  his  poor  stomach  !  The  Mother 
of  Invention  was  however  at  her  elbow,  to  suggest  an  expedient, 
and  in  a  trice  the  bedding  was  dragged  from  the  bedstead  and 
spread  upon  the  floor.  During  this  manoeuvre  Miss  Crane  of 
course  only  looked  on :  she  bad  never  in  her  life  made  a  bed, 
even  in  the  regular  way,  and  the  touzling  of  a  shakedown  on  the 
bare  boards  was  far  too  Margery  DawTish  an  operation  for  her 
precise  nature  to  be  concerned  in.  Moreover,  her  thoughts  were 
fully  occupied  by  a  question  infallibly  associated  witb  a  strange 
bed,  namely,  whether  it  had  been  aired.  A  speculation  which 
had  already  occurred  to  her  sister,  but  whose  more  practical  mind 
was  busy  in  contriving  how  to  get  at  the  warming-pan.  But  in 
vain  she  asked  for  it  by  name  of  every  German,  male  or  female, 
in  the  room,  and  as  vainly  she  sought  for  the  utensil  in  the  inn 
kitchen,  and  quit:'  as  vainly  might  she  have  hunted  for  it  through- 
out the  village,  seeing  that  no  such  article  had  ever  been  met 
with  by  the  oldest  inhabitant.  As  a  last  resource  she  caught  up 
a  walking-stick,  and  thrusting  one  end  under  the  blanket,  en- 
deavoured pantomimically  to  imitate  a  chambermaid  in  the  act  of 


52  WHIMSICALITIES. 

warming  a  bed.  But  alas!  she  "took  nothing  by  her  motion" 
— the  Germans  only  turned  towards  each  other,  and  shrugging 
their  shoulders  and  grinning,  remarked  in  their  own  tongue, 
"  What  droll  people  they  were  those  Englishers  ! " 

The  sensitive  imagination  of  Miss  Crane  had  in  the  interim 
conjured  up  new  and  more  delicate  difficulties  and  necessities, 
imongst  which  the  services  of  a  chamberlain  were  not  the  least 
urgent.  "  Who  was  to  put  her  papa  to  bed  ?  Who  was  to  un- 
dress him  ? "  But  from  this  perplexity  she  was  unexpectedly 
delivered  by  that  humble  friend  in  need,  honest  Hans,  who  no 
sooner  saw  the  bed  free  from  the  walking-stick,  than  without  any 
bidding,  and  in  spite  of  the  resistance  of  the  patient,  he  fairly 
stripped  him  to  his  shirt,  and  then  taking  him  up  in  his  arms, 
like  a  baby,  deposited  bim,  willy  nilly,  in  the  nest  that  had  been 
prepared  for  him. 

The  females,  during  the  first  of  these  operations,  retired  to  the 
kitchen — but  not  without  a  certain  order  in  their  going.  Miss 
Crane  went  off  simultaneously  with  the  coat — her  sister  with  the 
waistcoat,  and  the  hostess  and  the  maid  with  the  small-clothes 
and  the  shoes  and  stockings.  And  when,  after  a  due  and  decent 
interval,  the  two  governesses  returned  to  the  sick  chamber, — for 
both  had  resolved  on  sitting  up  with  the  invalid — lo !  there  lay 
the  Reverend  T.  C,  regularly  littered  down,  by  the  coachman 
with  a  truss  of  clean  straw  to  eke  out  the  bedding, — no  longer 
writhing  or  moaning — but  between  surprise  and  anger  as  still 
and  silent  as  if  his  groans  had  been  astonished  away  like  the 
"  hiccups ! " 

You  may  take  a  horse  to  the  water,  however,  but  you  cannot 
make  him  drink, — and  even  thus,  the  sick  man,  though  bedded 
perforce,  refused  obstinately  to  go  to  sleep. 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 


53 


"Et  monsieur  a  bieii  dormi?"  inquired  the  German  doctor  the 
next  morning. 

"  Pas  un — "  begun  Miss  Crane,  but  she  ran  aground  for  the 
next  word,  and  was  obliged  to  appeal  to  the  linguist  of  Lebanon 
House. 

"  Ruth— what's  a  wink  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Miss  Ruth,  who  was  absorbed  in  some 
active  process.     "Do  it  with  your  e)re." 


RAD    FRENCH. 


54  WHIMSICALITIES. 

The  idea  of  winking  at  a  strange  gentleman  was  however  so 
obnoxious  to  all  the  schoolmistress's  notions  of  propriety,  that  she 
at  once  resigned  the  explanation  to  her  sister,  who  accordingly 
informed  the  physician  that  her  "pauvre  pere  n'avoit  pas  dormi 
un  moreeau  toute  la  nuit  longue." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"  Stop,  sir !  Pray  change  the  subject.  By  your  leave  we 
have  had  quite  enough  of  bad  French." 

As  you  please,  madam — and  as  the  greatest  change  I  can 
devise.  \«iu  shall  now  have  a  little  bad  English.  Please,  then,  to 
lend  your  attention  to  Monsieur  De  Bourg — the  subject  of  his 
liscourse  ought  indeed  to  be  of  some  interest  to  you,  namely,  the 
education  of  your  own  sex  in  your  own  country. 

"  Well,  sir,  and  what  does  he  say  of  it  ?" 

Listen,  and  you  shall  hear.     Proceed,  Monsieur. 

"  Sare,  I  shall  tell  you  my  impressions  when  I  am  come  first 
from  Paris  to  London.  De  English  Ladies,  I  say  to  myself,  must 
be  de  most  best  educate  women  in  de  whole  world.  Dere  is 
schools  for  dem  every  wheres — in  a  hole  and  in  a  corner.  Let 
me  take  some  walks  in  the  Fauxbourgs,  and  what  do  I  see  all 
around  myself  ?  When  I  look  dis  way  I  see  on  a  white  house's 
front  a  large  bord  wid  some  gilded  letters,  which  say  Seminary 
for  Young  Ladies.  When  I  look  dat  way,  at  a  big  red  house,  I 
see  anoder  bord  which  say  Establishment  for  Young  Ladies  1  > v 
Miss  Someones.  And  when  I  look  up  at  a  little  house,  at  a  little 
window,  over  a  barber-shop,  I  read  on  a  paper  Ladies  School. 
Den  I  see  Prospect  House,  and  Grove  House,  and  de  Manor 
House — so  many,  I  cannot  call  dem  names,  and  also  all  schools 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  55 

for  de  young  females.  Day  Schools  besides.  And  in  my  walks, 
always  I  meet  some  Schools  of  Young  Ladies,  eight,  nine,  ten 
times  in  one  day,  making  dere  promenades,  two  and  two  and 
two.  Den  I  come  home  to  my  lodging's  door,  and  below  the 
knocker  I  see  one  letter — I  open  it,  and  I  find  a  Prospectus  of  a 
Lady  School.  By  and  bye  I  say  to  my  landlady,  where  is  your 
oldest  of  daughters,  which  used  to  bring  to  me  my  breakfast,  and 
she  tell  me  she  is  gone  out  a  governess.  Next  she  notice  me  I 
must  quit  my  appartement.  What  for  I  say.  What  have  I  done  ? 
Do  I  not  pay  you  all  right  like  a  weekly  man  of  honour  ?  0  cer- 
tainty, mounseer,  she  say,  you  are  a  gentleman  quite,  and  no  mis- 
takes— but  I  wants  my  whole  of  my  house  to  myself  for  to  set 
it  up  for  a  Lady  School.  Noting  but  Lady  Schools ! — and  de 
widow  of  de  butcher  have  one  more  over  de  street.  Bless  my 
soul  and  my  body,  I  say  to  n^self,  dere  must  be  nobody  born'd 
in  London  except  leetle  girls  ! " 


CHAPTER  XX. 

There  is  a  certain  poor  word  in  the  English  language  which  of 
late  years  has  been  exceedingly  ill-used — and  it  must  be  said,  b} 
those  who  ought  to  have  known  better. 

To  the  disgrace  of  our  colleges,  the  word  in  question  was  first 
perverted  from  its  real  significance  at  the  very  head-quarters  of 
learning.  The  initiated,  indeed,  are  aware  of  its  local  sense, — 
but  who  knows  what  cost  and  inconvenience  the  duplicity  of  the 
term  may  have  caused  to  the  more  ignorant  members  of  the  coii! 
munity  ?  Just  imagine,  for  instance,  a  plain,  downright  English- 
man who  calls  a  spade  a  spade, — induced  perhaps  by  the  facilities 
of  the  railroads — making  a  summer  holiday,  and  repairing   Lo 


";  WHIMSICALITIES. 

Cambridge  or  Oxford,  may  be  with  his  whole  family,  to  see  ho 
aot  exactly  know  what  —  whether  a  Collection  of  Pictures, 
Wax-Work,  Wild  d  Indians,  a  Fat  Ox,  or  a  Fat  Child 

— but  at  an s  rate  an  "Exhibition!" 

More  recently  the  members  of  the  faculty  have  taken  it  into 
their  heads  to  misuse  the  unfortunate  word,  and  by  help  of  its 
misapplication,  arc  continually  promising  to  the  car  what  the 
druggists  really  perform  to  the  eyi — namely,  to  "exhibit"  their 
medicines.  If  the  Doctors  talked  of  hiding  them,  the  phrase 
would  be  more  germane  to  the  act :  for  it  would  be  difficult  to 
conceal  a  little  Pulv.  Rhei — Magnes.  sulphat. — or  tinct.  jalapse, 
more  effectually  than  by  throwing  it  into  a  man's  or  woman's 
stomach.  And  pity  it  is  that  the  term  has  not  amongst  medical 
men  a  more  literal  significance  ;  for  it  is  certain  that  in  many 
diseases,  and  especially  of  the  hypocondriac  class — it  is  certain,  1 
say,  that  if  the  practitioner  actually  made  "a  show"  of  his  ma- 
tt r'u I,  the  patient  would  recover  at  the  mere  sight  of  the  "  Exhi- 
bition." 

This  was  precisely  the  case  with  the  Rev.  T.  C.  Had  he  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  a  Homceopathist  with  his  infinitesimal  doses, 
only  fit  to  be  exhibited  like  the  infinitesimal  insects  through  a 
solar  microscope,  his  recovery  would  have  been  hopeless.  But 
his  better  fortune  provided  otherwise.  The  German  Medecin 
Rath,  who  prescribed  for  him,  was  in  theory  diametrically  opposed 
to  Hahnemann,  and  in  his  tactics  he  followed  Napoleon,  whose 
leading  principle  was  to  bring  masses  of  all  arms,  horse,  foot,  and 
artillery,  to  bear  on  a  given  point.  In  accordance  with  this  sys- 
tem, he  therefore  prescribed  so  liberally  that  the  following  articles 
were  in  a  very  short  time  comprised  in  his  "  Exhibition  :" 

A.  series  of  powders  to  be  taken  every  two  hours. 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  57 

A  set  of  draughts,  to  wash  down  the  powders. 

A  box  of  pills. 

A  bag  full  of  certain  herbs  for  fomentations. 

A  large  blister,  to  be  put  between  the  shoulders. 

Twenty  leeches,  to  be  applied  to  the  stomach. 

As  Macheath  sings,  "  a  terrible  show  ! " — but  the  doctor,  in 
common  with  his  countrymen,  entertained  some  rather  exaggerated 
notions  as  to  English  habits,  and  our  general  addiction  to  high 
feeding  and  fast  living — an  impression  that  materially  aggravated 
the  treatment. 

"  He  must  be  a  horse-doctor ! "  thought  Miss  Crane,  as  she 
looked  over  the  above  articles — at  any  rate  she  resolved — as  if 
governed  by  the  proportion  of  four  legs  to  two — that  her  parent 
should  only  take  one  half  of  each  dose  that  was  ordered.  But 
even  these  reduced  quantities  were  too  much  for  the  Rev.  T.  C. 
The  first  instalment  he  swallowed — the  second  he  smelt,  and  the 
third  he  merely  looked  at.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  was  fast  trans- 
forming from  a  Malade  Imaginaire,  into  a  Malade  Malgre  Lui. 
In  short,  the  cure  proceeded  with  the  rapidity  of  a  Hohenlohe 
miracle — a  result  the  doctor  did  not  fail  to  attribute  to  the  energy 
of  his  measures,  at  the  same  time  resolving  that  the  next  English 
patient  he  might  catch  should  be  subjected  to  the  same  decisive 
treatment.  Heaven  keep  the  half,  three  quarters,  and  whole  lengths 
of  my  dear  countrymen  and  countrywomen  from  his  Exhibitions  ! 

His  third  visit  to  the  Englishers  at  the  Adler  was  his  last.  He 
found  the  Convalescent  in  his  travelling  dress, — Miss  Ruth  en- 
gaged in  packing, — and  the  Schoolmistress  writing  the  letter 
which  was  to  prepare  Miss  Parfitt  for  the  speedy  return  of  the 
family  party  to  Lebanon  House.  It  was  of  course  a  busy  time 
and  the  Medecin  Rath  speedily  took  his  fees  and  his  leave. 


58  WHIMSICALITIES. 

There  remained  only  the  account  to  settle  with  the  landlord 
of  the  Adler ;  and  as  English  families  rarely  stopped  at  that 
wretched  inn,  the  amount  of  the  bill  was  quite  extraordinary. 
Never  was  there  such  a  realization  of  the  "  large  reckoning  in  a 
little  room." 

"  Well,  I  must  say,"  murmured  the  Schoolmistress,  as  the 
coach  rumbled  off  towards  home,  "  I  do  wish  we  had  reached 
Gotha,  that  I  might  have  got  my  shades  of  wool." 

"  Humph  !  "  grunted  the  Rev.  T.  C,  still  sore  from  tne  recent 
disbursement.  "  They  went  out  for  wool,  and  they  returned 
shorn." 

"  We  went  abroad  for  pleasure,"  grumbled  Miss  Ruth,  and 
have  met  with  nothing  but  pain  and  trouble." 

"  And  some  instruction  too,"  said  Miss  Crane,  with  even  more 
than  her  usual  gravity.  "  For  my  own  part  I  have  met  with  a 
lesson  that  has  taught  me  my  own  unfitness  for  a  Governess. 
For  I  cannot  think  that  a  style  of  education  which  has  made 
me  so  helpless  and  useless  as  a  daughter,  can  be  the  proper  one 
for  young  females  who  are  hereafter  to  become  wives  and  mothers, 
a  truth  that  every  hour  has  impressed  on  me  since  I  have  been  a 
Schoolmistress  Abroad." 


59 


m 


No  sun — no  moon! 

No  morn — no  noon — 
No  dawn — no  dusk — no  proper  time  of  day — 

No  sky — no  earthly  view — 

No  distance  looking  blue — 
No  road — no  street — no  "  t'other  side  the  way" — 

No  end  to  any  Row — 

No  indications  where  the  Crescents  go- 
No  top  to  any  steeple — 
No  recognitions  of  familiar  people — 

No  courtesies  for  showing  'em — 

No  knowing  'em ! 
No  travelling  at  all — no  locomotion, 
No  inkling  of  the  way — no  notion — 

"  No  go  " — by  land  or  ocean — 

No  mail — no  post — 

No  news  from  any  foreign  coast — 
No  Park — no  Ring — no  afternoon  gentility — 

No  company — no  nobility — 
No  warmth,  no  cheerfulness,  no  healthful  ease 

No  comfortable  feel  in  any  member — 
No  shade,  no  shine,  no  butterflies,  no  bees, 
No  fruits,  no  flow'rs,  no  leaves,  no  birds, 

November ! 


60 


€\t  €nmit  nf  3Lvaljuuit. 

A    ROMANCE. 

Amongst  the  many  castled  crags  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine, 
one  of  the  most  picturesque  is  the  ruin  of  Lahneck,  perched  on  a 
conical  rock,  close  to  that  beautiful  little  river  the  Lahn.  The 
Castle  itself  is  a  venerable  fragment,  with  one  lofty  tower  rising 
far  above  the  rest  of  the  building — a  characteristic  feature  of  a 
feudal  stronghold — being  in  fact  the  Observatory  of  the  Robber- 
Baron,  whence  he  watched  not  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
but  the  movements  of  such  earthly  ones  as  might  afford  him  a 
booty,  or  threaten  him  with  an  assault.  And  truly,  Lahneck  is 
said  to  have  been  the  residence  of  an  order  of  Teutonic  Knights 
exactly  matching  in  number  the  famous  band  of  Thieves  in  the 
Arabian  Tale. 

However,  when  the  sun  sets  in  the  broad  blaze  behind  the 
heights  of  Capellen,  and  the  fine  ruin  of  Stolzenfels  on  the  op- 
posite banks  of  the  Rhine,  its  last  rays  always  linger  on  the  lofty 
tower  of  Lahneck.  Many  a  time,  while  standing  rod  in  hand  on 
one  or  other  of  the  brown  rocks  which,  narrowing  the  channel  of 
the  river,  form  a  small  rapid,  very  favourable  to  the  fisherman — 
many  a  time  have  I  watched  the  rich  warm  light  burning  beacon- 
like on  the  very  summit  of  that  solitary  tower,  whilst  all  the  river 
lay  beneath  in  deepest  shadow,  save  the  golden  circles  that 
marked  where  a  fish  rose  to  the  surface,  or  the  bright  corrusca- 
tions  made  by  the  screaming  swallow  as  it  sportively  dipped  its 
wing  in  the  dusky  water,  like  a  gay  friend  breaking  in  on  the 


THE  TOWER  OF  LA H NECK.  61 

cloudy  reveries  of  a  moody  mind.  And  as  these  natural  lights 
faded  away,  the  artificial  ones  of  the  village  of  Lahnstein  began 
to  twinkle — the  glowing  windows  of  Duquet's  hospitable  pavilion, 
especially,  throwing  across  the  stream  a  series  of  dancing  reflec- 
tions that  shone  the  brighter  for  the  sombre  shadows  of  a  massy 
cluster  of  acacias  in  the  tavern-garden.  Then  the  myriads  of 
chafers,  taking  to  wing,  filled  the  air  with  droning — whilst  the 
lovely  fire-flies  with  their  fairy  lamps  began  to  flit  across  my 
homeward  path,  or  hovered  from  osier  to  osier,  along  the  calm 
waterside.     But  a  truce  to  these  personal  reminiscences. 

It  was  on  a  fine  afternoon,  towards  the  close  of  May,  1830, 
that  two  ladies  began  slowly  to  climb  the  winding  path  which 
leads  through  a  wild  shrubbery  to  the  ruined  Castle  of  Lahneck. 
They  were  unaccompanied  by  any  person  of  the  other  sex ;  but 
such  rambles  are  less  perilous  for  unprotected  females  in  that 
country  than  in  our  own — and  they  had  enjoyed  several  similar 
excursions  without  accident  or  offence.  At  any  rate,  to  judge 
from  their  leisurely  steps,  and  the  cheerful  tone  of  their  voices, 
they  apprehended  no  more  danger  than  might  accrue  to  a  gauze 
or  a  ribbon  from  an  overhanging  branch  or  a  stray  bramble. 
The  steepness  of  the  ascent  forced  them  occasionally  to  halt  to 
take  breath,  but  they  stopped  quite  as  frequently  to  gather  the 
wild  flowers,  and  especially  the  sweet  valley  lilies,  there  so  abund- 
ant— to  look  up  at  the  time-stained  Ruin  from  a  new  point,  or  to 
comment  on  the  beauties  of  the  scenery. 

The  elder  of  the  ladies  spoke  in  English,  to  which  her  com- 
panion replied  in  the  same  language,  but  with  a  foreign  accent, 
and  occasional  idioms,  that  belonged  to  another  tongue.  In  fact, 
she  was  a  native  of  Germany,  whereas  the  other  was  one  of  those 
many  thousands  of  British  travellers  whom  tho  long  peace,  the 


62  WHIMSICALITIES. 

steamboat,  and  the  poetry  of  Byron  had  tempted  to  visit  the 
"  blue  and  arrowy "  river.  Both  were  young,  handsome,  and 
accomplished ;  but  the  Fraulein  Von  B.  was  unmarried ;  whilst 

Mrs. was  a  wife  and  a  mother,  and  with  her  husband  and 

her  two  children  had  occupied  for  some  weeks  a  temporary  home 
within  the  walls  of  Coblenz.  It  was  in  this  city  that  a  friendship 
had  been  formed  between  the  German  Girl  and  the  fair  Islander 
— the  gentle  pair  who  were  now  treading  so  freely  and  fearlessly 
under  the  walls  of  a  Castle  where  womanly  beauty  might  for- 
merly have  ventured  as  safely  as  the  doe  near  the  den  of  the  lion. 
But  those  days  are  happily  gone  by — the  dominion  of  Brute 
Force  is  over — and  the  Wild  Baron  who  doomed  his  victims  to 
the  treacherous  abyss,  has  dropped  into  an  Oubliette  as  dark  and 
deep  as  his  own. 

At  last  the  two  ladies  gained  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  and 
for  some  minutes  stood  still  and  silent,  as  if  entranced  by  the 
beauty  of  the  scene  before  them.  There  are  elevations  at  which 
the  mind  loses  breath  as  well  as  the  body — and  pants  too  thickly 
with  thought  upon  thought  to  find  utterance.  This  was  espe- 
cially the  case  with  the  English  woman,  whose  cheek  flushed, 
while  her  eyes  glistened  with  tears ;  for  the  soul  is  touched  by 
beauty  as  well  as  melted  by  kindness,  and  here  Nature  was  lavish 
of  both — at  once  charming,  cheering,  and  refreshing  her  with  a 
magnificent  prospect,  the  brightest  of  sunshine,  and  the  balmiest 
air.  Her  companion,  in  the  meantime,  was  almost  as  taciturn, 
merely  uttering  the  names  of  the  places — Ober-Lahnstein — Ca- 
pellen — Stolzenfels — Neider-Lahnstein — St.  John's  Church — to 
which  she  successively  pointed  with  her  little  white  finger.  Fol- 
lowing its  direction,  the  other  lady  slowly  turned  round,  till  her 
eyes  rested  on  the  Castle  itself,  but  she  was  too   near  to  see  the 


THE  TOWER  OF  LAHNECK.  63 

ruin  to  advantage,  and  her  neck  ached  as  she  strained  it  to  look 
up  at  the  lofty  tower  which  rose  almost  from  her  feet.  Still  she 
continued  to  gaze  upward,  till  her  indefinite  thoughts  grew  into 
a  wish  that  she  could  ascend  to  the  top,  and  thence,  as  if  sus- 
pended in  air,  enjoy  an  uninterrupted  new  of  the  whole  horizon. 
It  was  with  delight,  therefore,  that  on  turning  an  angle  of  the 
wall  she  discovered  a  low  open  arch  which  admitted  her  to  the 
ulterior,  where  after  a  little  groping,  she  perceived  a  flight  of 
stone  steps,  winding  as  far  as  the  eye  could  trace,  up  the  massy 
walls. 

The  staircase,  however,  looked  very  dark,  or  rather  dismal, 
after  the  bright  sunshine  she  had  just  quitted,  but  the  whim  of 
the  moment,  the  spirit  of  adventure  and  curiosity,  induced  her  to 
proceed,  although  her  •  companion,  who  was  more  phlegmatic, 
started  several  difficulties  and  doubts  as  to  the  practicability  of 
the  ascent.  There  were,  however,  no  obstacles  to  surmount 
beyond  the  gloom,  some  trifling  heaps  of  rubbish,  and  the  fatigue 
of  mounting  so  many  gigantic  steps.  But  this  weariness  was 
richly  repaid,  whenever  through  an  occasional  loophole  she  caught 
a  sample  of  the  bright  blue  sky,  and  which  like  samples  in  gene- 
ral appeared  of  a  far  more  intense  and  beautiful  colour  than  any 
she  had  ever  seen  in  the  whole  piece.  No,  never  had  heaven 
seemed  so  heavenly,  or  earth  so  lovely,  or  water  so  clear  and  pure, 
as  through  those  narrow  apertures — never  had  she  seen  any  views 
so  charming  as  those  exquisite  snatches  of  landscape,  framed  by 
the  massive  masonry  into  little  cabinet  pictures,  of  a  few  inches 
square — so  small  indeed,  that  the  two  friends,  pressed  cheek  to 
cheek,  could  only  behold  them  with  one  eye  apiece  !  The  Eng- 
lishwoman knew  at  least  a  dozen  of  such  tableaux,  to  be  seen 
through  particular  loopholes  in  certain  angles  of  the  walls  of  Co- 


64:  WHIMSICALITIES. 

blenz — but  these  "pictures  of  the  Lahneck  gallery,"  as  she  termed 
them,  transcended  them  all !  Nevertheless  it  cost  her  a  sigh  to 
reflect  how  many  forlorn  captives,  languishing  perhaps  within 
those  very  walls,  had  been  confined  to  such  glimpses  of  the  world 
Avithout — nay,  whose  every  prospect  on  this  side  the  grave  had 
been  framed  in  stone.  But  such  thoughts  soon  pass  away  from 
the  minds  of  the  young,  the  healthy  and  the  happy,  and  the  next 
moment  the  fair  moralist  was  challenging  the  echoes  to  join  with 
her  in  a  favourite  air.  Now  and  then  indeed  the  song  abruptly 
stopped,  or  the  voice  quavered  on  a  wrong  note,  as  a  fragment  of 
mortar  rattled  down  to  the  basement,  or  a  disturbed  bat  rustled 
from  its  lurking-place,  or  the  air  breathed  through  a  crevice  with 
a  sound  so  like  the  human  sigh,  as  to  revive  her  melancholy  fan- 
cies. But  these  were  transient  terrors,  and  only  gave  rise  to  peals 
of  light-hearted  merriment,  that  were  mocked  by  laughing  voices 
from  each  angle  of  the  walls. 

At  last  the  toilsome  ascent  wras  safely  accomplished,  and  the 
two  friends  stood  together  on  the  top  of  the  tower,  drawing  a 
long,  delicious  breath  of  the  fresh,  free  air.  For  a  time  they  were 
both  dazzled  to  blindness  by  the  sudden  change  from  gloom  to 
sunshine,  as  Avell  as  dizzy  from  the  unaccustomed  height ;  but 
these  effects  soon  wore  off,  and  the  whole  splendid  panorama, — 
variegated  wTith  mountains,  valleys,  rocks,  castles,  chapels,  spires, 
towns,  villages,  vineyards,  cornfields,  forests,  and  rivers, — was  re- 
vealed to  the  delighted  senses.  As  the  Englishwoman  had  an- 
ticipated, her  eye  could  now  travel  unimpeded  round  the  entire 
horizon,  which  it  did  again  and  again  and  again,  while  her  lips 
kept  repeating  all  the  superlatives  of  admiration. 

"  It  is  mine  Faderland,"  murmured  the  German  girl  with  a 
natural  tone  of  triumph  in  the  beauty  of  her  native  country 


THE  TOWER  OF  LAHNECK.  65 

"  Speak — did  I  not  well  to  persuade  you  to  here,  by  little  bits, 
aud  little  bite,  instead  of  a  stop  at  Horcheim  ?  " 

"  You  did  indeed,  my  dear  Amanda.  Such  a  noble  prospect, 
would  well  repay  a  much  longer  walk." 

"  Look  ! — see — dere  is  Rhense — and  de  Marxberg  " — but  the 
ringer  was  pointed  in  vain,  for  the  eyes  it  would  have  guided 
continued  to  look  in  the  opposite  direction  across  the  Lahn. 

"  Is  it  possible  from  here,"  inquired  the  Englishwoman.  "  to 
see  Coblenz  ? " 

Instead  of  answering  this  question,  the  German  girl  looked  up 
archly  in  the  speaker's  face,  and  then  smiling  and  nodding  her 
head,  said  slily,  "  Ah,  you  do  think  of  a  somebody  at  home ! " 

"  I  was  thinking  of  him,  indeed,"  replied  the  other,  "  and  re- 
gretting that  he  is  not  at  this  moment  by  my  side  to  enjoy " 

She  stopped  short — for  at  that  instant  a  tremendous  peal,  as 
of  the  nearest  thunder,  shook  the  tower,  to  its  very  foundation. 
The  German  shrieked,  and  the  ever  ready  "  Ach  Cott ! "  burst 
from  her  quivering  lips ;  but  the  Englishwoman  neither  stirred 
nor  spoke,  though  her  cheek  turned  of  the  hue  of  death.  Some 
minds  are  ^nuch  more  apprehensive  than  others,  and  hers  was 
unusually  quick  in  its  conclusions, — the  thought  passed  from  cause 
to  consequence  with  the  rapidity  of  the  voltaic  spark.  Ere  the 
sound  had  done  rumbling,  she  knew  the  nature  of  the  calamity 
as  distinctly  as  if  an  evil  spirit  had  whispered  it  in  her  ear. 
Nevertheless,  an  irresistible  impulse,  that  dreadful  attraction 
which  draws  us  in  spite  of  ourselves  to  look  on  what  is  horrible 
and  approach  to  the  very  verge  of  danger,  impelled  her  to 
seek  the  very  sight  she  most  feared  to  encounter.  Her  mind, 
indeed,  recoiled,  but  her  limbs,  as  by  a  volition  superior  to  her 
own,  dragged  her  to  the  brink  of  the  abyss  she  had  prophetically 


66  WHIMSICALITIES. 

painted,  where  the  reality  presented  itself  with  a  startling  resem- 
blance to  the  ideal  pieture. 

Yes,  there  yawned  that  dark  chasm,  unfathomable  by  the 
human  eye,  a  great  gulf  fixed — perhaps,  eternally  fixed — betwei  D 
herself  and  the  earth,  with  all  it  contained  of  most  dear  and 
precious  to  the  heart  of  a  wife  and  a  mother.  Three — only  the 
three  uppermost  steps  of  the  gigantic  staircase  still  remained 
in  their  place,  and  even  these  as  she  gazed  at  them  suddenly 
plunged  into  the  dreary  void;  and  after  an  interval  which  indi- 
cated the  frightful  depth  they  had  to  plumb,  reached  the  bottom 
with  a  crash  that  was  followed  by  a  roll  of  hollow  echoes  from 
ihe  subterranean  vaults  ! 

As  the  sound  ceased,  the  Englishwoman  turned  away,  with  a 
gasp  and  a  visible  shudder,  from  the  horrid  chasm.  It  was  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  that  she  had  mastered  a  mechanical  inclina- 
tion to  throw  herself  after  the  falling  mass — an  impulse  very 
commonly  induced  by  the  unexpected  descent  of  a  large  body 
from  our  own  level.  But  what  had  she  gained  ?  Perhaps  but 
a  more  lingering  and  horrible  fate — a  little  more  time  to  break 
her  heart  in — so  many  more  wretched  hours  to  lanfent  for  her 
lost  treasures — her  cheerful  home — her  married  felicity — her 
maternal  joys,  and  to  look  with  unavailing  yearnings  towards 
Coblenz.  But  that  sunny  landscape  had  become  intolerable ; 
and  she  hastily  closed  her  eyes  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands.  Alas!  she  only  beheld  the  more  vividly  the  household 
images,  and  dear  familiar  faces  that  distractingly.  associated  the 
happiness  of  the  past  with  the  misery  of  the  present — for  out 
of  the  very  sweetness  -of  her  life  came  •  intenser  bitterness,  and 
from  its  brightest  phases  an  extremer  darkness,  even  as  the 
smiling  valley  beneath  her  had  changed  into  that  of  the  Shadow 


THE   TOWER  OF  LAHNECK.  67 

of  Death  !  The  Destroyer  had  indeed  assumed  almost  a  visible 
presence,  and  like  a  poor  trembling  bird,  conscious  of  the  stooping 
falcon,  the  devoted  victim  sank  down  and  cowered  on  the  hard, 
cold,  rugged  roof  of  the  fatal  Tower ! 

The  German  girl,  in  the  meanwhile,  had  thrown  herself  on 
her  knees,  and  with  her  neck  at  full  stretch  over  the  low  parapet, 
looked  eagerly  from  east  to  west  for  succour — but  from  the  mill 
up  the  stream  to  the  ferry  down  below,  and  along  the  road  on 
either  side  of  the  river,  she  could  not  descry  a  living  object. 
Yes — no — yes — there  was  one  on  the  mountain  itself,  moving 
among  the  brushwood,  and  even  approaching  the  castle ;  closer 
he  came — and  closer  yet,  to  the  very  base  of  the  Tower.  But 
his  search,  whatever  it .  was,  tended  earthwards,  for  he  never 
looked  up. 

"  Here  ! — come ! — gleich  ! — quick  !"  and  the  agitated  speaker 
hurriedly  beckoned  to  her  companion  in  misfortune — "  we  must 
make  a  cry  both  togeder,  and  so  loud  as  we  can,'.'  and  setting 
the  example  she  raised  her  voice  to  its  utmost  pitch  ;  but  the  air 
was  so  rarified  that  the  sound  seemed  feeble  even  to  herself. 

At  any  rate  it  did  not  reach  the  figure  below — nor  would  a 
far  louder  alarm,  for  that  figure  was  little  Kranz,  the  deaf  and 
dumb  boy  of  Lahnstein,  who  was  gathering  bunches  of  the 
valley-lilies  for  sale  to  the  company  at  the  inn.  Accordingly, 
after  a  desultory  ramble  round  the  ruins,  he  descended  to  the 
road,  and  slowly  proceeded  along  the  water  side  towards  the 
ferry,  where  he  disappeared. 

"  Lieber  Gott !"  exclaimed  the  poor  girl ;  "  it  is  too  far  to 
make  one  hear  !  " 

So  saying  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  with  her  white  handker- 
chief kept  waving  signals  of  distress,  till  from  sheer  exhaustion 


68  WHIMSICALITIES 

her  BraM  refn  ed  their  office.     Bui  not 

3  so  frequent  on  fine  summer  days  in  that  favoui 
had   visited   the  Bpot     'I  b<  re  was  a   Kin  h  •■■ 
down  the  Rhine,  and  the  holiday-makers  had  all  proceeded  with 
their  characteristic  uniformity  in  that  direction. 

"Dere  is  nobody  at  all,"  said  the  German,  dropping  hex 
and  head  in  utter  deepondi  ua  I " 

••  .Vud  if  there  were,"  added  a  hollow  voice,  "what  human  help 
could  avail  us  at  this  dreadful  heighl :" 

The  truth  of  this  reflection  was  awfully  apparent;  but  who 
when  life  is  at  stake  can  p  Bign  hope,  or  its  last  fearful  contingency 
though  frail  as  a  spider's  thread  encumbered  with  den  dro] 

The  German,  in  Bpite  of  her  misgivings,  resumed  her  watch; 
till  after  a  long,  weary,  dreary  hour,  figure  issued  from 

a  hut  a  little  lower  down  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Lahn,  and 
stepping  in!"  a  boat  propelled  it  to  the  middle  of  the'stream.  It 
was  one  of  the  poor  fishermen  who  rented  the  water,  and  rowing 
directly  to  the  rapid,  In-  made  a  casl  or  two  with  his  net,  imme- 
diately within  the  reflection  of  the  Castle.  But  he  w 
tanl  to  hear  the  cry  that  appealed  t'>  him,  and  too  much  absorbed 
in  the  success  or  failure  of  his  peculiar  lottery  to  1- ..  >k  aloft.  Like 
the  deaf  and  dumb  hoy,  he  passed  on,  hut  in  the  opposite  dir.v- 
tion,  and  gradually  disappeared. 

"It  will  never  be  seen!"  ejaculated  the  German  girl,  again 
dropping  her  arm — a  doubtful  prophecy,  how.  v.  r,  for  immediately 
afterwards  the  Rhenish  steamboat  passed  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  and  probably  more  than  one  telescope  was  pointed  to 
the  romantic  ruin  of  Lahneck.  But  the  distance  was  great,  and 
even  had  it  been  less,  the  waving  of  a  white  handkerchief  would 
have  been  taken  for  a  merry  or  a  friendly  salute. 


THE  TOWER  OF  LAHNECK.  69 

In  the  meantime  the  steamboat  passed  out  of  sight  behind  the 
high  ground ;  but  the  long  streamer  of  smoke  was  still  visible, 
like  a  day-meteor,  swiftly  flying  along,  and  in  a  direction  that 
made  the  Englishwoman  stretch  out  her  arms  after  the  fleetino- 
vapour  as  if  it  had  been  a  thing  sensible  to  human  supplication. 

"  It  is  gone  also  ! "  exclaimed  her  partner  in  misery.  "  And  in 
a  short  while  my  liebe  Mutter  will  see  it  come  to  Coblenz ! " 

The  Englishwoman  groaned. 

"  It  is  my  blame,"  continued  the  other,  in  an  agony  of  self- 
reproach  ;  "  it  was  my  blame  to  come  so  wide — not  one  can  tell 
where.  Nobody  shall  seek  at  Lahneck, — dey  will  think  we  are 
dropped  into  de  Rhine.  Yes — we  must  die  both  !  We  must  die 
of  famishmen — and  de  cornfields,  and  de  vines  is  all  round  one  ! " 

And  thus  hour  passed  after  hour,  still  watching  promises  that 
budded  and  blossomed  and  withered — and  still  flowered  again 
and  again  without  fruition — till  the  shades  of  evening  began  to 
fall,  and  the  prospect  became  in  every  sense  darker  and  darker. 

Barge  after  barge  had  floated  down  the  river,  but  the  steersman 
had  been  intent  on  keeping  his  craft  in  the  middle  of  the  current 
in  the  most  difficult  part  of  his  navigation — the  miller  had  passed 
along  the  road  at  the  base  of  the  mountain,  but  his  thoughts 
were  fixed  on  the  home  within  his  view — the  female  peasant 
drove  her  cows  from  the  pasture — the  truant  children  returned  to 
the  village,  and  the  fisherman  drifting  down  the  stream,  again 
landed,  and  after  hanging  his  nets  up  to  dry  between  the  trees  on 
the  opposite  meadows,  re-entered  his  hut.  But  none  saw  the 
signal,  none  heard  the  cry,  or  if  they  did  it  was  supposed  to  be 
the  shrill  squeak  of  the  bat.  There  was  even  company  at  the 
inn,  for  the  windows  of  Duquet's  pavilion  began  to  sparkle,  but 
the  enjoyments  of  the  party  had  stopped  short  of  the  romantic 


70  WHIMSICALITY 

and  the  picturesque — they  were  quaffing  Knew  wein,  and  eating 
thick  sour  cream  sweetened  with  Bugar,  and  flavoured  with  cin- 
namon, 

"It  is  hard,  mine  friend,"  Bobbed  the  German,  "  not  ■ 
but  for  themseb 

"It  i-  unjust,"  might  have  retorted  the  wife  an 
/think  of  my  husband  and  children,  and  they  think  oi 

Why  else  did  her  Boba  bo  disturb  the  tranquil  air,  or  wher 
did  Bhe  paint  her  beloved  Edward  and  her  two  fair-haired  boys 
with  their  fao  -  rted  bj  grief!     The  prea  at  and  i 

torn — for  time  is  nothing  in  Buch  visions — Were  almost  simul- 
taneously before  her,  and  the  happy  home  of  one  moment  \\a> 
transfigured  at  the  next  instant  into  the  h— oc  <-t'  mourning.  The 
contrast  was  agonizing  but  unspeakabl — one  "t"  tl  odona 

woes  which  stupify  the  bouI,  as  when  the  body  is  not  pi 
with  a  single  wound,  but  mortally  crushed.     She  was  not  merely 
stricken  but  stunned. 

"Mein  Got!  !"  exclaimed  the  German  girl,  after  a  vain  experi- 
ment on  the  passiveness  of  her  companion,  "why  do  you  not 
speak  something — what  shall  we  d 

"Nothing,''1  answer.. 1    a  shuddering   whisper,  "except — .li.-!" 

A  long  pause  ensued,  during  which  the  German  girl  more 
than  once  approached  and  looked  down  the  pitch  Mack  orifice 
which  had  opened  to  the  fallen  stairs.  Perhaps  it  look.  | 
gloomy  than  by  daylight  in  the  full  blaze  of  the  sun, — perhaps 
she  had  read  and  adopted  a  melancholy,  morbid  tone  of  f< 
too  common  to  German  works,  when  they  treat  of  voluntary  death, 
or  perhaps  the  Diabolical  Prompter  was  himself  at  hand  with 
the  desperate  suggestion,  fatal  alike  to  body  and  to  soul, — but  the 
wretched  creature  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  d  verge. 


THE  TOWER  OF  LAHNECK.  71 

Her  pupose,  however,  was  checked.  Although  the  air  was 
perfectly  still,  she  heard  a  sudden  rustle  amongst  the  ivy  on  that 
side  of  the  Tower,  which  even  while  it  made  her  start,  had 
whispered  a  nW  hope  in  her  ear.  Was  it  possible  that  her  sig- 
nals had  been  observed — that  her  cries  had  been  heard  ?  'And 
again  the  sound  was  audible,  followed  by  a  loud  harsh  cry,  and 
a  large  Owl,  like  a  bird  of  ill  omen,  as  it  is,  fluttered  slowly  over 
the  heads  of  the  devoted  pair,  and  again  it  shrieked  and  flapped 
round  them,  as  if  to  involve  them'  in  a  magical  circle,  and  then 
with  a  third  and  shriller  screech  sailed  away  like  an  Evil  Spirit, 
in  the  direction  of  the  Black  Forest. 

Nor  was  that  boding  fowl  without  its  sinister  influence  on  hu- 
man destiny.  The  disappointment  it  caused  to  the  victim  was 
mortal.     It  was  the  drop  that  overbrimmed  her  cup. 

"  No,"  she  muttered,  "  dere  is  no  more  hopes.  For  myself  I 
will  not  starve  up  here — I  know  my  best  friend,  and  will  cast 
my  troubles  on  the  bosom  of  my  mother  earth." 

Absorbed  in  her  own  grief  the  Englishwoman,  did  not  at  first 
comprehend  the  import  of  these  words  ;  but  all  at  once  their 
meaning  dawned  on  her  with  a  dreadful  significance.  It  was, 
however,  too  late.  Her  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  skirt  of  a 
garment,  her  ear  detected  a  momentary  flutter — and  she  was 
alone  on  that  terrible  tower  ! 

******  * 

And  did  she  too  perish  ?  Alas !  ask  the  peasants  and  the  fish- 
ermen who  daily  worked  for  their  bread  in  that  valley  or  on  its 
river ;  ask  the  ferryman  who  hourly  passed  to  and  fro,  and  the 
bargeman,  who  made  the  stream  his  thoroughfare,  and  they  will 
tell  you,  one  and  all,  that  they  heard  nothing  and  saw  nothing, 
for  Labour  looks  downward   and  forward,  and  round  about,  but 


72  WHIMSICALITIES. 

not  upward.     Nay,  ask  the  angler  himself,  who  withdrew  hia  lly 

from  the  circling  eddies  of  the  rapids  to  look  at  the  last  beams 
of  sunshine  glowing  on  the  lofty  Ruin — and  he  answers  that  he 
never  saw  living  creature  on  its  summit,  except  once,  when  the 
Crow  and  the  Raven  were  hovering  about  the  building,  and  a 
screaming  Eagle,  although  it  had  no  nest  th<-iv,  was  perched  on 
the  Tower  of  Lahneck. 

Note. — This  story — (which  some  hardy  critic  affirmed  was  "  an  old 
Legend  of  the  Rhine,  to  be  found  in  any  Guide-book,") — was  suggested 
by  the  recital  of  two  ladies,  who  attempted  to  ascend  to  the  top  of  the 
Tower  of  Lahneck,  but  were  deterred  by  the  shaking  of  the  stone  stairs. 
They  both  consider,  to  this  day,  that  they  narrowly  escaped  a  fate  akin  to 
the  catastrophe  of  poor  Amy  Robsart ;  and  have  viable  shudderings  when 
they  hear,  or  read,  of  old  Rhenish  castles  and  oubliettes. 


T6 

€ d    in tj    Dnngjftxr. 

ON    HER    BIRTH-DAY. 

Dear  Fanuy !  nine  long  years  ago, 
While  yet  the  morning  sun  was  lew, 
And  rosy  with  the  Eastern  glow 

The  landscape  smil'd — 
Whilst  low'd  the  newly-wakened  herds — 
Sweet  as  the  early  song  of  birds, 
I  heard  those  first,  delightful  words, 

«  Thou  hast  a  Child ! " 

Along  with  that  uprising  dew 

Tears  glisten'd  in  my  eyes,  though  few 

To  hail  a  dawning  quite  as  new 

To  me,  as  Time  : 
It  was  not  sorrow — not  annoy — 
But  like  a  happy  maid,  though  coy, 
With  grief-like  welcome  even  Joy 

Forestalls  its  prime. 

So  mayst  thou  live,  dear !  many  years, 

In  all  the  bliss  that  life  endears, 

Not  without  smiles,  nor  yet  from  tears 

Too  strictly  kept : 
When  first  thy  infant  littleness 
I  folded  in  my  fond  caress, 
The  greatest  proof  of  happiness 

Was  this — I  wept. 


74 


'<Ejjr   Drfnultrr. 


AN      OWKE      TRUE     TALE, 


CHAPTER  I. 

in  heedful  oote; 


For  I  mine  eyes  will  piv<  I  to  his  I 

And  after  we  will  b<>tli  our  judgments  join 

In  censure  <•','  his  Beeming. 

Hamlet. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Mr.  Pryme?" 

The  Bpeaker  was  a  tall,  dark  man,  with  grizzled  hair,  black 
a  long  nose,  a  wide  mouth,  and  the  commercial  feature  of  a  pen 
behind  his  right  ear.  He  had  several  tamed  asked  himself  the 
same  question,  but  without  any  satisfactory  solution,  and  now  ad- 
dressed it  to  a  little  sandy -haired  man,  who  was  standing  with 
his  back  to  the  office  fife.      Both  were  clerks  in  oment 

office,  as  well  as  the  party  whose  health  or  deportment  was  in- 
volved in  the  inquiry. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Mr.  Pryme  .'  " 

"  Heaven  knows,"  said  the  sandy  Mr.  Phipps,  at  the  same  time 
lifting  up  his  eyebrows  towards  the  organs  of  wonder,  and  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders. 

"  You  have  observed  how  nervous  and  fidgety  he  is  ? " 

"  To  be  sure.  Look  at  the  fireplace :  he  has  done  nothing 
all  the  morning  but  put  on  coals  and  rake  them  out  again." 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  watching  him  and  kept  count,*'  interposed 
Mr.  Trent,  a  junior  official;    "he  has  poked  the  fire  nineteen 


THE  DEFAULTER.  75 

times,  besides  looking  five  times  out  of  tlie  window,  and  twice 
taking  down  liis  bat  and  banging  it  up  again." 

"  I  got  birn  to  cbange  me  a  sovereign,"  said  tbe  dark  Mr. 
Grimble,  "  and  be  first  gave  me  nineteen,  and  tben  twenty-one 
shillings  for  it.  But  look  bere  at  bis  entries,"  and  be  pointed  to 
an  open  ledger  on  tbe  desk,  "  be  bas  dipped  promiscuously  into 
tbe  black  ink  and  tbe  red  !  " 

Tbe  tbree  clerks  took  a  look  a-piece  at  tbe  book,  and  tben  a 
still  longer  look  at  eitber.  None  of  tbem  spoke :  but  eacb  made 
a  face,  one  pursing  up  bis  lips  as  if  to  blow  an  imaginary  flageo- 
let, anotber  frowning  as  if  witb  a  distracting  beadacbe,  and  tbe 
tbii'd  drawing  down  tbe  corners  of  bis  moutb,  as  if  be  bad  just 
taken,  or  was  about  to  take,  pbysic. 

"  Wbat  can  it  be  ? "  said  Mr.  Pbipps. 

"  Let's  ask  bim,"  suggested  Mr.  Trent. 

"  Better  not,"  said  Gnmble,  "  you  know  bow  bot  and  toucby 
be  is.  I  once  ventured  to  cut  a  joke  on  bim,  and  be  bas  never 
tborougbly  forgiven  it  to  tbis  day." 

"  Wbat  was  it  about  ?  "  inqubed  tbe  junior. 

"  Wby  be  bas  been  married  about  a  dozen  years  witbout  baving 
any  cbildren,  and  it  was  tbe  usual  tbing  witb  us,  wben  be  came 
of  a  morning,  to  ask  after  tbe  little  Prymes, — but  tbe  joke  caused 
so  many  rows  and  quarrels,  tbat  we  bave  given  it  up." 

"  Where  is  he  ? "  asked  Mr.  Pbipps,  witb  a  glance  round  tbe 
office. 

"  In  tbe  Secretary's  private  room.     But  busb  !  bere  be  comes." 

Tbe  tbree  clerks  hastily  retreated  to  their  several  desks,  and 
began  writing  witb  great  apparent  diligence  ;  yet  vigilantly 
watching  every  movement  of  the  nervous  and  fidgety  Mr.  Pryme, 
who  entered  tbe  room  witb  an  uneven  step,  looking  rather  flushed 


'6  WHIMSICALITIES. 

ind  excited,  and  vigorously  rubbing  his  bald  bead  with  his  silk 
landkerchief.     Perhaps  he  noticed  that  he  was  observed,  for  be 

ooked  uneasily  and  suspiciously  from  one  clerk  to  the  oth<  r;  but 
each  face  preserved  a  demure  gravity,  and  the  little,  stout,  bald, 
florid  gentleman  repaired  to  his  own  place.  The  Morning  Post, 
damp,  and  still  unfolded,  was  lying  on  his  disk;  he  took  it  up, 
dried  it  at  the  fire,  and  began  to  read — but  the  n^xt  minute  he 
laid  down  the  paper,  and  seizing  the  poker  made  several  plunges 
at  the  coals,  as  often  against  the  bars  as  between  them,  till  the 
metal  rang  again.  Then  he  resinned  the  Post — but  quickly  re- 
linquished it — quite  unable  to  fix  his  attention  on  the  typ< — an 
incompetence  perfectly  astounding  to  the  other  clerks,  who  con- 
sidered reading  the  newspaper  as  a  regular  and  important  pari  of 
the  official  dut 

"  By  Jove,"  whispered  Mr.  Phipps  to  Mr.  Grimble,  whom  he 
had  approached  under  the  pretence  of  delivering  a  document, 
"he  cannot  Post  the  news  any  more  than  his  ledger." 

Mr.  Grimble  acquiesced  with  a  grave  nod  and  a  grimace;  and 
Mr.  Phipps  returning  to  his  desk,  a  silence  ensued,  so  profound 
that  the  scratching  of  the  pens  at  work  on  the  paper  was  distinctly 
audible.  The  little  bald  cashier  himself  had  begun  to  write,  and 
for  some  minutes  was  occupied  so  quietly  that  curiosity  gave  way 
to  business,  and  the  three  clerks  were  absorbed  in  their  calcula- 
tions, when  a  sudden  noise  caused  them  to  look  up.  Mr.  Pryme 
had  jumped  from  his  high  stool,  and  was  in  the  act  of  taking 
down  his  hat  from  its  peg.  He  held  it  for  a  wThile  in  his  hand, 
as  if  in  deep  deliberation,  then  suddenly  clapped  it  on  his  head, 
but  as  suddenly  took  it  off  again — thrust  the  Morning  Post  into 
the  crown,  and  restored  the  beaver  to  its  place  on  the  wall.  The 
next  moment  he  encountered  the  eye  of  Phipps — a  suspicion  that 


THE  DEFAULTER.  11 

he  was  watched  seemed  to  cross  him,  and  his  uneasiness  increased. 
He  immediately  returned  to  his  desk,  and  began  to  turn  over  the 
leaves  of  an  account-book — but  with  unnatural  haste,  and  it  was 
evident  that  although  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  volume,  his 
thoughts  were  elsewhere,  for  by  degrees  he  went  off  into  a  re- 
verie, only  rousing  now  and  then  while  he  took  huge  pinches  of 
snuff.  At  last,  suddenly  waking  up,  he  pulled  out  his  watch — 
pored  at  it — held  it  up  to  his  ear — replaced  it  in  his  fob,  and 
with  a  glance  at  his  hat,  began  drawing  on  his  gloves.  Perhaps 
he  would  have  gone  off — if  Mr.  Grimble  had  not  crossed  over 
from  his  desk,  and  placed  an  open  book  before  him,  with  a  re- 
quest for  his  signature.  The  little  bald,  florid  man,  without  re- 
moving his  glove,  attempted  to  write  his  name,  but  his  hand 
trembled  so  that  he  could  hardly  guide  the  pen.  However,  he 
tried  to  carry  off  the  matter  as  a  joke — but  his  laugh  was  forced, 
and  his  voice  had  the  quavering  huskiness  of  internal  agitation. 

"  Ha  !  ha  ! — rather  shaky — too  much  wine  last  night — eh,  Mr. 
Grimble  ?" 

The  latter  made  no  reply,  but  as  he  walked  off  with  the  book 
under  his  arm,  and  his  back  towards  Mr.  Pryme,  he  bestowed 
a  deliberate  wink  on  each  of  his  associates,  and  significantly 
imitated  with  his  own  hand  the  aspen-like  motion  he  had  just 
observed.  The  others  responded  with  a  look  of  intelligence, 
and  resumed  their  labours ;  but  the  tall,  dark  man  fell  into  a  fit 
of  profound  abstraction,  during  which  he  unconsciously  scribbled 
on  his  blotting  paper,  in  at  least  a  score  of  places,  the   word 

EMBEZZLEMENT. 


78  WHIMSICALITIES. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"And  do  you  really  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Author,  thai  so  respect- 
able a  bald  man  had  actually  appropriated  the  public  moc 

Heaven  forbid,  madam.  My  health  is  tar  too  infirm,  and  my 
modesty  much  too  delicate  to  allow  me  to  undertake,  off-hand, 
the  work  of  twelve  men;  and  who  sometimes  are  not  strong 
enough,  the  whole  team,  to  draw  a  correct  inference.  As  yet, 
Mr.  Pryme  only  labours  under  suspicion,  and  a  verj  hard  labour 
it  is  to  be  sentenced  to  before  conviction.  I5ut  permit  me  to  ask, 
do  you  really  associate  baldness  with  respectability  .' 

"  Of  course,  sir.     All  bald  men  arc  respectable." 

It  is  indeed  a  very  general  impression — so  much  so,  that  were 
I  a  criminal,  and  anxious  to  propitiate  a  Judge  and  a  Jury  at  my 
trial,  I  would  have  my  head  shaved  beforehand  as  clean 
monk's.  And  yet  it  is  a  strange  prepossession,  that  we  should 
connect  guilt  with  a  fell  of  hair,  and  innocence  with  a  hare 
sconce!  Why,  madam,  why  should  we  conceive  a  bald  man  to 
be  less  delinqent  than  another  ? 

"  I  suppose,  sir,  because  he  has  less  for  a  catchpole  to  lay 
hold  of  ?" 

Thank  you,  ma'am!  The  best  reason  I  have  heard  for  a  pre- 
judice in  all  my  life  ! 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  little  bald,  florid  man,  in  the  mean  time,  continued  his 
nervous  and  fidgety  evolutions — worrying  the  fire,  trying  on  his 
hat,    and   gloves,    snuffing    vehemently,    coughing   huskily,  and 


THE  DEFAULTER.  79 

winking  perpetually — now  scurrying  through  folios — then  drum- 
ming what  is  called  the  Devil's  tattoo  on  his  desk,  and  moreover, 
under  pretence  of  mending  his  pens,  had  slashed  half-a-dozen  of 
them  to  pieces — when  he  received  a  fresh  summons  to  the  Secre- 
tary's room. 

The  moment  the  door  closed  behind  him,  the  two  clerks, 
Phipps  and  Trent,  darted  across  to  Mr.  Grimble,  who  silently 
exhibited  to  them  the  shaky  autograph  of  the  agitated  cashier. 
They  then  adjourned  to  the  fire,  where  a  pause  of  profound 
cogitation  ensued ;  the  Junior  intensely  surveying  his  bright 
boots — Mr.  Phipps  industriously  nibbling  the  top  of  his  pen — 
while  Mr.  Grimble  kept  assiduously  breaking  the  bituminous 
bubbles  which  exuded  from  the  burning  coals  with  the  point  of 
the  poker. 

"  It  is  very  extraordinary  !"  at  last  muttered  Mr.  Phipps. 

"  Very,"  chimed  in  the  Junior  Clerk. 

Mr.  Grimble  silently  turned  his  back  to  the  fire,  and  fixed  his 
gaze  on  the  ceiling,  with  his  mouth  firmly  compressed,  as  if 
meaning  to  signify,  "  that  whatever  he  might  think,  he  would 
say  nothing  " — in  case  of  any  thing  happening  to  Mr.  Pryme,  he 
was  the  next  in  seniority  for  the  vacant  place,  and  delicacy  for- 
bade his  being  the  first  to  proclaim  his  suspicions. 

"  You  don't  think  he  is  going  off,  do  you  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Phipps. 

Mr.  Grimble  turned  his  gaze  intently  on  the  querist  as  though 
he  would  look  him  through — hemm'd — but  said  nothing. 

"  I  mean  off  his  head." 

"  Oh — I  thought  you  meant  off  to  America." 

It  was  now  Mr.  Phipps's  turn  to  look  intently  at  Mr.  Grimble, 
whose  every  feature  he  scrutinized  with  the  studious  interest  of  a 
Lavater. 


80  WHIMSICALITIES. 

"  Why  you  surely  don't  mean  to  say " 

"  I  do." 

"  What  that  he  has " 

«  Yes." 

"  Is  it  possible  ! " 

Mr.  Grimble  gave  three  disti net  and  deliberate  nods,  in  reply 
to  which,  Mr.  Phipps  whistled  a  long  phe-e-e-e-e-ew  ! 

All  this  time  the  Junior  had  been  eagerly  listening  to  the  mys- 
terious conference,  anxiously  looking  from  one  Bpeaker  to  the 
other,  till  the  hidden  meaning  suddenly  revealed  itself  to  his 
mind,  and  with  tin-  usual  indiscretion  of  youth  he  immediately 
gave  it  utterance. 

"  Why  then,  Grimble,  old  Pryme  will  be  transported,  and  you 
will  walk  into  his  shoes." 

Mr.  Grimble  frowned  severely,  and  laid  one  forefinger  on  his 
lips,  while  with  the  other  he  pointed  to  the  door.  But  Mr.  Pryme 
was  still  distant  in  the  Secretary's  private  room. 

"  Well,  I  should  never  have  thought  it !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Phipps. 
"  He  was  so  regular  in  his  habits,  and  I  should  say  very  moderate 
in  his  expenses.  He  was  never  given  to  dress  (the  young  clerk 
laughed  at  the  idea),  and  certainly  never  talked  like  a  gay  man 
with  the  other  sex  (the  Junior  laughed  again).  I  don't  think  he 
gambled,  or  had  any  connexion  with  the  turf.  To  be  sure  he 
may  have  dabbled  a  little  in  the  Alley — or  perhaps  in  the  Dis- 
counting line." 

To  each  of  these  interrogative  speculations  Mr.  Grimble  re- 
sponded with  a  negative  shake  of  the  head,  or  a  doubtful  shrug 
of  the  shoulders,  till  the  catalogue  was  exhausted,  and  then,  with 
his  eyes  cast  upward,  uttered  an  emphatic  "  God  knows  ! " 

"  But  have  you  any  proof  of  it  ?"  asked  Mr.  Phipps. 


THE  DEFAULTER.  81 

"  None  whatever — not  a  particle.  Only  what  I  may  call  a 
strong — a  very  strong  presentiment." 

And  as  if  to  illustrate  its  strength,  Mr.  Grimblo  struck  a  blow 
with  the  poker  that  smashed  a  large  Staffordshire  coal  into 
shivers. 


BROKE     BY     A     FALL     OF    THE     STOCKS. 

"  Then  there  may  be  nothing  wrong  after  all ! "  suggested  the 
good-natured  Mr.  Phipps.  "  And  really  Mr.  Pryme  has  always 
seemed  so  respectable,  so  regular,  and  so  correct  in  business " 

"  So  did  Fauntleroy,  and  the  rest  of  them ;"  muttered  Mr. 

Grimble,  "  or  they  would  never  have  been  trusted.     However,  it's 

a  comfort  to  think  that  they  had  no  children,  and  that  the  capital 

punishment  for  such  offences  has  been  abolished." 

4* 


82  WHIMSICALITIES. 

"I  can  hardly  believe  it!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Phippa. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  young  clerk,  "  there  is  no  mistake 
about  it.  I  was  watching  hiinwhen  the  messenger  came  to  fetch 
him  to  the  secretary,  and  he  started  and  shook  as  it'  he  had  ex- 
pected a  policeman." 

Mr.  Phipps  said  no  more,  but  retreated  to  his  place,  with  his 
elbows  on  his  desk,  and  his  head  between  his  hands,  began  sor- 
rowfully to  ruminate  on  the  ruin  and  misery  impending  over  the 
unfortunate  cashier.  lie  could  well  appreciate  the  nervous  alarm 
and  anxiety  of  the  wretched  man,  liable  at  any  moment  to  d 
tion,  with  the  consequent  disgrace,  and  a  punishment  scarcely 
preferable  to  death  itself.  His  memory  reminded  him  that  Mr. 
Pryme  had  done  him  various  services,  while  his  imagination  pic- 
tured bis  benefactor  in  the  most  distressing  situations — in  the 
station-house — at  Bow-street — in  Newgate — at  the  Bar  of  the 
Old  Baily — in  a  hulk — in  a  convict-ship,  with  the  common  herd 
of  the  ruffianly  and  the  depraved — and  finally  toiling  in  life-long 
labour  in  a  distant  land.  And  as  he  dwelt  on  these  dreadful  and 
dreary  scenes,  the  kind-hearted  Phipps  himself  became  quite  un- 
hinged ;  his  own  nerves  began  to  quiver,  whilst  his  muscles  sym- 
pathizing with  the  mental  excitement,  prompted  him  to  such  rest- 
less activity,  that  he  was  soon  almost  as  fidgety  and  perturbed  as 
the  object  of  his  commiseration. 

Oh  !  that  the  guilty  man,  forewarned  of  danger  by  some  pro- 
vidential inspiration,  might  have  left  the  office  never  to  return ! 
But  the  hope  was  futile :  the  door  opened — the  doomed  Mr. 
Pryme  hastily  entered — went  to  his  own  desk,  unbuttoned  his 
waistcoat,  and  clutching  his  bewildered  bald  head  with  one  fe- 
vered hand,  began  with  the  other  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  a 
journal,  without  perceiving  that  the  book  was  upside  down. 


THE  DEFAULTER.  83 

"  Was  there  ever,"  thought  Phipps,  "  such  an  infatuation  !  Ho 
has  evidently  cause  for  alarm,  and  yet  lingers  about  the  fatal  spot." 

How  he  yearned  to  give  him  a  hint  that  his  secret  was  known 
— to  say  to  him,  "  Go ! — Fly  !  ere  it  be  too  late !  Seek  some 
other  country  where  you  may  live  in  freedom  and  repent." 

But  alas!  the  eyes  of  Grimble  and  Trent  were  upon  him,  and 
above  all  the  stern  figure  of  inexorable  Duty  rose  up  before  him, 
and  melting  the  wax  of  Silence  at  the  naming  sword  of  Justice, 
imposed  a  seal  upon  his  lips. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  Gracious  Goodness  ! "  exclaims  Female  Sensibility,  "  and  will 
the  dear  fresh-coloured  bald  little  gentleman  be  actually  trans- 
ported to  Botany  Bay  ! " 

My  dear  Miss — a  little  patience.  A  criminal  before  such  a 
consummation  has  to  go  through  more  processes  than  a  new  pin. 
First,  as  Mrs.  Glasse  says  of  her  hare,  he  has  to  be  caught,  then 
examined,  committed,  and  true-billed — arraigned,  convicted,  and 
sentenced.  Next,  he  must,  perhaps,  be  cropped,  washed,  and 
clothed — hulked  and  shipped,  and  finally,  if  he  does  not  die  of 
sea-sickness,  or  shipwreck,  or  get  eaten  by  the  natives,  he  may  toil 
out  his  natural  term  in  Australia,  as  a  stone-breaker,  a  cattle- 
keeper,  or  a  domestic  servant ! 

"  Dear  me,  how  dreadful !  And  for  a  man,  perhaps,  like  Mr. 
Pryme,  of  genteel  habits  and  refined  notions,  accustomed  to  all 
the  luxuries  of  life,  and  every  delicacy  of  the  season.  I  should 
really  like  to  set  on  foot  a  little  private  subscription,  for  providing 
him  with  the  proper  comforts  in  prison  and  a  becoming  outfit  for 
his  voyage." 


84  WHIMSICALITIES. 

My  dear  young  lady,  1  can  appreciate  your  motives  and  do 
honour  to  your  feelings.  But  before  you  go  round  with  your 
book  among  relations,  acquaintance,  and  strangers,  soliciting 
pounds,  shillings,  and  pence,  from  people  of  broad,  middling,  and 
narrow  incomes,  just  do  me  the  favour  to  look  into  yonder  garret) 
exposed  to  us  by  the  magic  of  the  Devil  on  Two  Sticks,  and  con- 
sider  that  respectable  young  woman,  engaged  past  midnight,  by 
the  light  of  a  solitary  rush-light,  in  making  shirts  al  three-half- 
pence a  piec,  and  shifts  for  nothing.  Look  at  her  holloa  • 
Iht  withered  cheeks,  and  emaciated  frame,  for  it  is  a  part  of  the 
infernal  bargain  that  she  is  to  lose  her  own  health  and  find  her 
own  needles  and  thread.  Reckon,  if  you  can,  the  thousands  of 
weary  stitches  it  will  require  to  sew,  not  gussets  and  seams,  but 
body  and  soul  together :  and  perhaps,  after  all  her  hard  sewing, 
having  to  sue  a  shabby  employer  for  the  amount  of  her  pitiful 
earnings.  Estimate,  if  you  may,  the  terrible  wear  and  tear  of 
head  and  heart,  of  liver  and  lungs.  Appraise,  on  oath,  the  value 
of  youth  wasted,  spirits  outworn,  prospects  blasted,  natural  affec- 
tions withered  in  the  bud,  and  all  blissful  hopes  annihilated  ex- 
«pt  those  beyond  the  grave 

"What!  by  that  horrid,  red-faced,  bald-pated,  undersized  little 
monster ! " 

No  Miss — but  by  a  breach  of  trust  on  the  part  of  a  banker  of 
genteel  habits  and  refined  notions ;  accustomed  to  all  the  luxuries 
of  life,  and  every  delicacy  of  the  season. 

"  Oh,  the  abominable  villain  !  And  did  he  ruin  himself  as  -well 
as  the  poor  lady  ? " 

Totally. 

"  And  was  transported  \ " 

Quite. 


THE  DEFAULTER.  85 

"What,  to  Botany?" 

No,  Miss.  To  the  loveliest  part  of  Sussex,  where  he  is  con- 
demned to  live  in  a  commodious  Cottage  Residence,  with  pleasure- 
ground  and  kitchen-garden  annexed — capital  shooting  and  fishing, 
and  within  reach  of  two  packs  of  hounds  ! 

"  Shameful !  Scandalous  ! — why  it's  no  punishment  at  all." 

No,  Miss.  And  then  to  think  of  the  hundreds  and  thousands 
of  emigrants — English,  Scotch,  and  Irish — who  for  no  crime  but 
poverty  are  compelled  to  leave  their  native  country — the  homes 
and  hearths  of  their  childhood — the  graves  of  their  kindred — the 
land  of  their  fathers,  and  to  settle — if  settling  it  may  be  called — 
in  the  houseless  woods  and  wildernesses  of  a  foreign  clime. 

"  Oh,  shocking  !  shocking  !  But  if  I  was  the  government  the 
wicked  fraudulent  bankers  and  trust-breakers  should  be  sent 
abroad  too.  Why  shouldn't  they  be  punished  with  passage- 
money  and  grants  of  land  as  well  as  the  poor  innocent  emigrants, 
and  be  obliged  to  settle  in  foreign  parts  ? " 

Ah  !  why,  indeed,  Miss — except — 

"Except  what,  sir?" 

Why,  that  Embezzlers  and  Swindlers,  by  all  accounts,  are  such 
very  bad  Settlers. 


CHAPTER  V. 

But  Mr.  Pryme  ?— 

That  little  bald,  florid,  fidgety  personage  was  still  sitting  on  his 
high  stool  at  his  desk,  snuffing,  coughing,  winking,  and  pretend- 
ing to  examine  a  topsyturvy  account  book — sometimes,  by  way 
of  variation,  hashing  up  a  new  pen,  or  drumming  a  fresh  march 
with  his  finger-s — 


86  WHIMSICALITIES. 

Mr.  Grimble  was  making  some  private  calculations,  which  had 

reference  to  his  future  income-tax,  on  a  slip  of  office-paper — 

Mr.  Trent  was  dreaming  over  an  imaginary  trial,  in  which  be 
was  a  witness  at  the  Old  Baily — 

And  Mr.  Phipps  was  fretting  over  the  predestined  capture  of 
the  infatuated  cashier — when  all  at  oner;  there  was  a  noise  that 
startled  the  clerkly  trio  from  their  seats. 

The  nervous  Mr.  Pryme,  by  one  of  his  involuntary  motions, 
had  upset  his  leaden  inkstand — in  trying  to  save  the  inkstand 
he  knocked  down  his  ruler — in  catching  at  the  ruler  he  had  let 
fall  the  great  journal — and  in  scrambling  after  the  journal  he  had 
overturned  his  high  stool.  The  clatter  was  prodigious,  and  acting 
on  a  nature  already  over-wrought  sufficed  to  discompose  the  last 
atom  of  its  equanimity. 

For  a  moment  the  bewildered  author  of  the  work  stood  and 
trembled  as  if  shot — then  snatching  his  hat,  and  clapping  it 
"  skow-wow  any  how  "  on  his  head,  rushed  desperately  out  of  the 
office. 

"  Thank  God!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Phipps,  drawing  a  long  breath, 
like  a  swimmer  after  a  dive. 

"I  say,  Grimble,"  exclaimed  thy  Junior  Clerk — "it's  a  true 
bill!" 

But  Mr.  Grimble  was  already  outside  the  door,  and  running 
down  the  stone-stairs  into  the  hall  seized  on  the  first  office-mes- 
senger  that  offered. 

"  Here — Warren  ! — quick ! — Run  after  Mr.  Pryme — don't  let 
him  out  of  your  sight — but  watch  where  he  goes  to — and  let  me 
know." 


THE    DEFAULTER. 


87 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Now  according  to  the  practice  of  the  regular  drama,  which 
professes  to  represent  the  greater  stage  of  the  world,  whenever  a 
robber,  murderer,  or  traitor  has  escaped,  it  is  a  rule  for  theatrical 
policemen,  constables,  runners,  guards,  alguazils,  sbirri,  or  gen- 
darmes, to  assemble  and  agree  to  act  in  concert — that  is  to  say, 
by  singing  in  chorus  that  the  villain  has  bolted,  and  musically  ex- 
horting each  other  to  "  follow,  follow,  fol-de-rol-de-rol-0  !  "  without 
i  moment's  delay. 


An  arrangement  perhaps  conducive  to  dramatic  convenience 
and  stage  effect,  but  certainly  quite  inconsistent  with  the  usages 
of  real  life  or  the  dictates  of  common  or  uncommon  sense. 


88  WHIMSICALITIES. 

Messrs.  Grimble,  Phipps,  and  Trent,  however,  were  aot  theatri- 
cal, so  instead  of  joining  in  a  trio  or  a  catch,  they  first  held  a 
consultation,  and  thru  proceeded  in  a  body  to  the  Secretary,  to 
whom  they  described  the  singular  behaviour  of  Mr.  Pryme. 

" Very  singular,  indeed,"  said  the  Secretary.  al  observed  it 
myself,  and  inquired  if  he  -was  in  good  health.  No — yes--no. 
And  Mrs.  Pryme?  Yes — no — yes.  In  Bhort,  he  did  not  seem 
to  know  what  he  was  saying." 

"Or  doing,"  put  in  Mr.  Trent.  "He  threw  a  shovel  of  coals 
into  the  iron  safe." 

"  With  other  acts,'1  added  Mr.  Grimble,  "therevera  of  official." 

"Tell  him  at  once,"  whispered  Mr.  Trent. 

"In  short,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Grimble,  with  a  most  sepulchral  tone, 
and  the  face  of  an  undertaker,  "  I  am  sorry,  deeply  sorry  and  con- 
cerned to  say  that  Mr.  Pryme  has  suddenly  departed." 

"Indeed !     But  he  was  just  the  sort  of  man  to  do  it." 

The  three  clerks  stared  al  each  other,  for  they  had  all  thought 
exactly  the  reverse  of  the  little,  bald,  florid,  ex-cashi  r. 

"Short-necked,  sanguine,  and  of  a  full  habit,  you  know,"  con- 
tinued the  Secretary.     "  Poor  fellow  ! " 

"I  am  sorry,  deeply  sorry  and  concerned  to  say,"  repeated  Mr. 
Grimble,  "that  I  mean  he  has  absconded." 

"  The  devil  he  has  !  "  exclaimed  the  Secretary,  at  once  jumping 
to  his  feet,  and  instinctively  buttoning  up  his  pockets — "  but  no — 
it's  impossible!"  and  he  looked  towards  Trent  and  Phipps  for 
confirmation. 

"  It's  a  true  bill,  sir,"  said  the  first,  "  he  has  bolted  sure 
enough." 

The  other  only  shook  his  head. 

"  It's  incredible !"    said    the    Secretary.     "  Why,   he  was   as 


THE  DEFAULTER.  89 

steady  as  a  quaker,  and  as  correct  as  clock-work !     Mr.  Griinble, 
have  you  inspected  his  books  ?" 

"  I  have,  sir." 

"  Well,  sir  ?" 

"  At  present,  sir,  all  appears  correct.  But  as  the  accounts  are 
kept  in  this  office  it  is  easier  to  embezzle  than  to  detect  any 
defalcation." 

"  Humph !  I  do  not  think  we  are  worse  in  that  respect  than 
other  public  offices  !  Then,  if  I  understand  you,  there  is  no  dis- 
tinct evidence  of  fraud  ?" 

"  None  whatever,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Phipps. 

"  Except  his  absconding,"  added  Mr.  Grirnble. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  we  will  wait  till  ten  o'clock  to-morrow 
morning,  and  then  if  Mr.  Pryme  does  not  make  his  appearance 
we  shall  know  bow  to  act." 

The  three  clerks  made  three  bows  and  retired,  severally 
pleased,  displeased,  and  indifferent  at  the  result  of  their  audi- 
ence. 

"We  may  wait  for  him,"  grumbled  Mr.  Grirnble,  "till  ten 
o'clock  on  doomsday." 

At  this  moment  the  door  re-opened,  and  the  Secretary  put 
out  his  head. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  need  not  recommend  you  to  confine  this  mat- 
ter, for  the  present,  to  your  own  bosoms." 

But  the  caution  was  in  vain.  Warren,  the  messenger,  had 
given  a  hint  of  the  affair  to  a  porter,  who  had  told  it  to  another, 
and  another,  and  another,  till  the  secret  was  as  well  buzzed  and 
blown  as  if  it  had  been  confided  to  a  swarm  of  blue-bottles.  In 
fact,  the  flight  of  Mr.  Pryme  was  known  throughout  the  several 
offices,  where,  according  to  English  custom,  the  event  became  a 


00 


WHIMSICALITIES. 


subject  for  betting,  and  a  considerable  Bum  was  laid  out  at  Cto4, 
and  afterwards  at  *l  to  2,  against  the  re-appearance  of  the  cashier. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"Well,  Warren  F 
"Well,  Mr.  Grimble,  nr!" 

The  three  clerks  on  returning  to  their  office,  had  found  tho 

messenger  at  the  door,  and  took  him  with  them  into  the  room. 

"  Well,  I  followed  up  Mr.  Pryme,  sir,  and  the  first  thing  he 

did  were  to  hail  a  cab." 

"  And  where  did  he  drive  to  ." 

••  To  nowheres  at  all — coz  why,  afore  tl al>  could  pull  round 

off  the  stand,  away  he  goes — that'-  Mr.  Pryme— -walking  ai  the 
rate  of  five  miles  an  hour,  more  or  less,  bo  as  not  easy  to  be  kept 
up  with,  straight  home  to  his  own  house,  number  !».  where  instid 
of  double  knocking  at  the  door,  he  ring'd  to  be  lei  in  at  the 
hairy  bell." 


A     DOUBLE     KNOCK. 


"  Very  odd  !"  remarked  Mr.  Grimble. 


THE  DEFAULTER.  91 

"  Well,  lie  staid  in  the  house  a  goodish  while — as  long  as  it 
might  take  him,  like,  to  collect  his  porterble  property  and  vally- 
bles — when  all  at  once  out  he  comes,  like  a  man  with  his  head 
turned,  and  his  hat  stuck  on  hind  part  afore,  for  you  know  he'd 
wore  it  up  at  the  back  like  a  curricle  one." 

"  A  clerical  one — go  on." 

"Why  then,  away  he  cuts  clown  the  street,  as  hard  as  he  can 
split  without  busting,  and  me  arter  him,  but  being  stiffish  with 
the  rheumatiz,  whereby  I  soon  found  I  was  getting  nowheres  at 
all  in  the  race,  and  in  consekence  pulled  up." 

"  And  which  way  did  he  run  ?  " 

"  "Why  then,  he  seemed  to  me  to  be  a-making  for  the  bridge." 

"  Ah,  to  get  on  board  a  steamer,"  said  Mr.  Grimble. 

"  Or  into  the  river,"  suggested  Mr.  Trent. 

Mi-.  Phipps  groaned  and  wrung  his  hands. 

"  You're  right,  you  are,  Mr.  Trent,  sir,"  said  the  Messenger 
with  a  determined  nod  and  wink  at  the  junior  clerk.  "  There 
was  a  gemman  throwed  himself  over  last  Friday,  and  they  did 
say  it  was  becos  he  had  made  away  with  ten  thousand  Long 
Annuitants." 

"  The  poor,  wretched,  misguided  creature  !  " 

"  Yes  he  did,  Mr.  Phipps,  sir — right  over  the  senter  harch. 
And  what's  wus,  not  leaving  a  rap  behind  him  except  his  widder 
and  five  small  little  children,  and  the  youngest  on  em's  a  suckin' 
babby." 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Phipps,  "that  Mr.  Pryme  is 
not  a  family  man." 


92  WHIMSICALITIES 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Poor  Mr.  Phipj  a ! 

As  soon  as  li  .    be  walked   home  to  his  lodg- 

ings in  Westminster,  but  ai  a  slower  pace  than  usual,  and  \\ith  a 
3  heart,  for  his  mind  was  full  of  sorrow  and  misgiving  at  the 
too  probable  fate  of  the  unfortunate  Defaulter.  The  figui 
Mr.  Pryme  followed  him  wherever  he  went:  it  seemed  to  glance 
over  his  shoulder  in  the  looking-glass;  ami  when  he  went  to 
wash  his  hands,  the  pale  drowned  face  of  the  cashier  shone  up 
through  the  water,  instead  of  the  pattern  at  the  bottom  of  the 
basin. 

For  the  firsl  time  since  his  clerkship  he  could  not  enjoy  that 
favourite  meal,  hi-  tea.  The  black  bitterness  in  his  thoughts 
overpowered  the  flavour  of  the  green  leaf — it  turned  the  milk, 
and  neutralized  the  sugar  on  his  palate.  He  took  but  one  bite 
out  of  his  crumpet,  and  th  n  resigned  it  to  the  cat.  Supper  v  as 
out  of  the  question.  His  mental  agitation,  acting  on  the  i 
of  the  stomach,  had  brought  on  a  siclc  headache,  which  indis- 
posed him  to  any  kind  of  food.  In  the  mean  while  for  the  first 
strange  time  be  became  intensely  sensible  that  he  was  a  bachelor, 
and  uncomfortably  conscious  of  bis  loneliness  in  tbe  world.  Tho 
company  of  a  second  person,  another  face,  only  to  look  at,  would 
have  been  an  infinite  reUef  to  bim — by  diverting  his  attention 
from  tbe  one  dreadful  thought  and  tbe  one  horrible  image  that, 
do  what  be  would,  kept  rising  up  before  bim — sometimes  like 
a  shadow  on  tbe  wall,  sometimes  like  a  miniature  figure  amid 
tbe  intricate  veins  of  tbe  marble  mantle  pie  :& — and  anon  in  tho 
cbiaro-oscuro  of  tbe  fire.  To  get  rid  of  the  e  haunting  illusions, 
be  caught  up  a  book  which  happened  to  be  '".? c  wcond  volume  of 


THE  DEFAULTER.  93 

"  Lamb's  Letters,"  and  stumbled  on  the  following  ominous  pas- 


"  Who  that  standeth,  knoweth  but  he  may  yet  fall  ?  Your 
hands,  as  yet,  I  am  most  willing  to  believe,  have  never  deviated 
into  other's  'property.  You  think  it  impiossible  that  you  could 
enr  commit  so  heinous  an  offence;  but  so  thought  Fauntleroy 
once ;  so  have  thought  many  besides  him,  who  at  last  have 
expiated  as  he  hath  done."" 

The  words  read  like  a  fatal  prophecy  !  He  dropped  the  book 
in  horror,  and  falling  on  his  knees,  with  tearful  eyes  and  uplifted 
hands,  besought  Providence,  if  it  saw  fit,  to  afflict  him  with  the 
utmost  miseries  of  sickness  and  poverty,  but  to  save  him — even 
by  stroke  of  sudden  death  to  save  him — from  ever  becoming  a 
Defaulter ! 

This  devotional  act  restored  him  in  some  degree  to  tranquillity ; 
but  with  night  and  sleep  all  his  horrors  returned.  The  face  of 
Mr.  Pryme,  no  longer  florid  but  pale  as  a  plaster-cast,  was  con- 
tinually confronting  him,  now  staring  at  him  through  transparent 
waters,  and  now  between  massive  iron  bars.  Then  the  dismal 
portrait  would  abruptly  change  to  a  full-length,  which  was  as 
suddenly  surrounded  by  a  cluster  of  children,  boys  and  girls  of 
different  ages,  including  one  or  two  infants, — a  family  he  under- 
stood, by  the  intuition  of  dreams,  to  be  illegitimate,  and  that  they 
were  solemnly  consigned  by  the  Suicide  to  his  care  and  mainte- 
nance. Anon  the  white  figure  vanished,  and  a  black  one  ap- 
peared in  its  place,  a  female,  with  the  very  outline,  as  if  cut  in 
paper,  of  the  widowed  Mrs.  Pryme,  and  who  by  some  mysterious 
but  imperative  obligation  he  felt  that  he  must  espouse.  The 
next  moment  this  phantom  was  swept  away  by  a  mighty  rush  of 
black  waters,  like  those  in  Martin's  grand  picture  of  the  Deluge, 


94  WHIMSICALITIES. 

and  on  or  beneath  the  dark  flood  again  floated  the  pale  effigy  of 
the  Suicide  entire  and  apparently  struggling  for  dear  life,  and 
sometimes  shattered  he  knew  not  how,  and  drifting  about  in 
passive  fragments.  Then  came  a  fresh  rush  of  black  v. 
gradually  shaping  itself  into  an  immense  whirlpool,  with  the 
white,  corpse-like  figure,  but  magnified  to  a  colossal  Bize,  rapidly 
whirling  in  the  centra  of  the  vortex,  whilst  obscure  forms,  black 
and   white,   of  children,   femali  3,    and    alas!    not    a  few 

gigantic  Demon  shape-,  revolved  more  slowly  around  it. 

In  short,  the  poor  fellow  ne\er  passed  bo  wretched  a  night  since 
he  was  born  ! 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"And  did  Mr.  Pry  me  really  drown  himself!" 

My  dear  Felicia,  if  Female  Curiosity  had  always  access,  as  yoo 
have,  to  an  author's  sanctorum, — if  she  could  stand  or  sit,  as  you 
can,  at  his  elbow  whilst  composing  his  romances  of  real  or  unreal 
life, — if  she  might  ask,  as  you  do,  at  the  beginning  or  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  plot,  what  is  to  be  its  d(  ' — 

"Well,  sir,  what  then?" 

Why,  then,  Messieurs  Colburn,  Saunders  and  Otley,  Bentley, 
Churton,  and  Newby — not  forgetting  A.  K.  Newman — might 
retire  for  good  to  their  country  boxes  at  Ponder's  End,  Leather- 
head,  and  Balham  Hill,  for  there  would  be  no  more  novels  in 
three  volumes. — Nay,  the  authors  themselves,  serious  and  comic, 
both  or  neither,  might  retreat  forever  into  the  Literary  Alms- 
houses, if  there  are  any  such  places — for  there  would  be  no  more 
articles  of  sixteen  pages — and  "to  be  continued" — in  the  maga- 
zines.    All  would  be  over  with  us,  as  with  the  Bourboas,  could 


THE  DEFAULTER.  95 

Female  Curiosity  thus  foresee,  as  Talleyrand  said,  "  Le  commence- 
ment de  la  fin  ! " 

"  Well,  but — if  your  story  as  you  say  is  '  an  owre  true  tale, 
then  Mr.  Piyme  must  have  been  a  real  man — an  actual  living- 
human  being — and  it  is  positive  cruelty  to  keep  one  in  suspense 
about  his  fate  !  " 

Dearest ! — the  tale  is  undoubtedly  true,  and  there  was  such  a 
personage  as  Mr.  Pryme — 

"  Was !  Why  then  he  did  embezzle  the  money,  and  he  did 
throw  himself  off  Westminster  Bridge  ?  But  had  he  really  an 
illegitimate  family  ?  And  did  Mr.  Phipps  actually  marry  the 
widow  according  to  bis  dream  ? " 

Patience ! — and  you  shall  hear. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  morrow  came,  and  the  Hour — but  not  the  Man. 

Messrs.  Grimble,  Phipps,  and  Trent  were  assembled  round  the 
office-fire — poor  Phipps  looking  as  white  as  a  sheet,  for  ten  o'clock 
had  struck,  and  there  was  no  Mr.  Pryme. 

At  five  minutes  past  ten  the  Secretary  came  in  from  his  own 
room  with  his  golden  repeater  in  his  hand — he  looked  anxiously 
round  the  office,  and  then  in  turn  at  each  of  the  three  clerks. 
Mr.  Phipps  sighed,  Mr.  Trent  shook  his  head,  and  Mr.  Grimble 
shrugged  up  his  shoulders. 

"  Not  here  yet  ?  " 

"  Nbr  won't  be,"  muttered  Mr.  Grimble. 

"What  odds  will  you  lay  about  it?"  whispered  the  giddj 
Mr.  Trent. 

"  The  office-clock  is  rather  fast,"  stammered  out  Mr.  Phipps. 


96  WHIMSICALITIES. 

"No — it  is  exact  by  mv  time,"  Baid  the  Secretary,  and  he  held 
out  his  watch  for  inspection. 

■•  He  was  always  punctual  to  a  minute,"  observed  Mr. 
Grimble. 

"Always.     I  fear,  gentlemen,  we  must  apply  for  a  war •" 

The  Secretary  paused,  for  he  heard  the  Bound  of  a  foot  at  the 
door,  which  hastly  opened,  and  in  walked  Mr.  Pryme  '.  I ! 

An  apparition  could  scarcely  have  caused  a  greater  trepidation. 

The  Secretary  hurriedly  thrust  his  repeater  into  liis  breeches-poo- 

Mr.  Grimble  retreated  to  his  own  desk — Mr.  Phipps  stood 

stock-still,  with  his  eyes  and  mouth  wide  open — while  Mr.  Trent, 

though  he  was  a  loser  on  the  event,  bursl  into  a  loud  laugh. 

••  1  am  afraid,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Pryme,  looking  verj 
ish  and  stammering,  "  I  am  afraid  that  my — my — my  ridiculous 
behaviour  yesterday  has   caused  you  -      a — une  i 

—on  my  account." 

No  answer. 

"The  truth  is — I  was  ly  anxious  and  nervous — and 

agitated — very  agitated  indeed!" 

The  little  florid  man  coloured  up  till  his  round,  shiny,  bald 
head  was  as  Bcarlet  as  a  love-apple. 

"The  truth  is — after  bo  many  disappointments — I  did  nut  like 
to  mention  the  thing — the  affair — till  it  was  quite  certain — till  it 
was  all  over — for  fear  of  being  quizzed.  The  truth  i- — the  truth 
is " 

"  Take  time,  Mr.  Pryme,"  said  the  Secretary. 

'•Why,  then,  sir — the  truth  is — after  fifteen  year — I'm  a 
Father — a  happy  Father,  sir — a  fine  chopping  boy,  gentlemen — 
and  Mrs.  P.  is  as  charming — that's  to  say,  as  well — as  can  be 
expected !" 


07 


The  world  is  with  me,  and  its  many  cares, 

Its  woes — its  wants — the  anxious  hopes  and  fears 

That  wait  on  all  terrestrial  affairs — 

The  shades  of  former  and  of  future  years — 

Foreboding  fancies,  and  prophetic  tears, 

Quelling  a  spirit  that  was  once  elate — 

Heavens  !  what  a  wilderness  the  earth  appears, 

Where  Youth,  and  Mirth,  and  Health  are  out  of  date ! 

But  no — a  laugh  of  innocence  and  joy 

Resounds,  like  music  of  the  fairy  race, 

And  gladly  turning  from  the  world's  annoy 

I  gaze  upon  a  little  radiant  face, 

And  bless,  internally,  the  merry  boy 

Who  "  makes  a  son-shine  in  a  shady  place." 


MY     SON     AND     HAIU. 


$  jj  i    &  n  1 1  if  -  (£  u  n  k  r  r  5  * 

Now  'a  ih<-  time  and  dow'b  the  hour  ! 
To  be  worried,  toss'd,  and  Bhaken, 
Down — down — down,  derry  down  — 

1 .1  i  us  take  to  the  road  ! 
Amanda,  let  us  quit  the  town — 

ther  lei  as  range  the  fields — 

i he  hills  and  far  away, 
life  let  us  cherish. 

Old  Ballw  b. 

The  Earth-quakers  arc  by  ao  means  a  new  Sect.  They  have 
appeared  at  various  times  in  England,  and  particularly  in  1750, 
-when  they  were  so  numerous  that,  according  to  Horace  Walpole, 
"within  three  days,  seven  hundred  and  thirty  coaches  were 
counted  passing  Hyde-park-corner  with  whole  parties  rem 
into  the  countrj  !"  The  same  pleasant  writer  has  preserved 
several  anecdotes  of  the  persuasion,  and  especially  records  that 
the  female  members,  to  guard  against  even  a  shock  to  their  con- 
stitutions, made  "earthquake  gowns"  of  a  warm  stuff,  to  sit  up 
in  at  night,  in  the  open  air !  Nor  was  the  alarm  altogether  un- 
founded, fur  the  earth,  he  .says,  actually  shook  twice  at  regular 
intervals,  so  that  fearing  the  terrestrial  ague  fit  would  become 
periodical,  the  noble  wit  proposed  to  treat  it  by  a  course  of  bark. 
However,  there  were  some  slight  vibrations  of  the  soil,  and  sup- 
posing them  only  to  have  thrown  down  a  platter  from  the  shelf 
to  the  floor,  the  Earth-quakers  of  1750  have  an  infinite  advan- 
tage over  those  of  1842,  when  nothing  has  fallen  to  the  ground 
but  a  fiddle-de-Dee  prediction. 

Still,  if  the  metropolis   has   not   exhibited   any  extraordinary 

*  In  1S42,  according  to  the  prediction  of  Dr.  Dee,  an  astrologer  of  the  time  of  Quoen 
Elizabeth,  London  was  to  be  destroyed  by  an  earthquake.  Hood  here  whimsically  hits  oif 
the  half-earnest  alarm  which  was  considerably  prevalent  as  the  predicted  day  approached. 


THE  EARTH-QUAKERS.  99 

physical  convulsion,  its  inhabitants  have  presented  an  astounding- 
Moral  Phenomenon.  Messrs.  Howell  and  James  best  know 
whether  they  have  vended  or  been  asked  for  peculiarly  warm 
fabrics — the  court  milliner  alone  can  tell  if  she  has  made  up  any 
new-fashioned  robes  de  nuit,  a  la  bivouac,  or  coiffures  adapted  to 
a  nocturnal  fete  champetre.  The  coaches,  public  and  private, 
which  have  passed  Hyde-park-corner  have  not  perhaps  been 
counted,  but  it  is  notorious  that  the  railway  carriages  have  been 
crammed  with  passengers,  and  the  Gravesend  steamers  were 
almost  swamped  by  the  influx  of  rapid  Earth-quakers,  all  rush- 
ing, sauve  qui  peut !  from  the  most  ridiculous  bugbear  ever 
licked  into  shape  by  the  vulgar  tongue.  Nor  yet  was  the 
"  Movement  Party "  composed  exclusively  of  the  lower  classes  ; 
but  comprised  hundreds  of  respectable  Londoners,  who  never 
halted  till  they  had  gone  beyond  the  Lord  Mayor's  jurisdiction, 
a  flight  unworthy  even  of  Cockney  ism,  which  implies  at  least  a 
devoted  attachment  to  London,  and  an  unshaken  confidence  in 
the  stability  of  St.  Paul's. 

The  Irish  indeed,  the  poor  blundering,  bull-making  Irish,  had 
some  excuse  for  their  panic.  The  prophecy  came  from  a  prophet 
of  their  own  religion,  and  appealed  to  some  of  then-  strongest 
prejudices.  They  had  perhaps  even  felt  some  precursory  agita- 
tion not  perceptible  to  us  English — whilst  the  rebuilding  of  the 
ruined  city  promised  a  famous  job  for  the  Hibernian  bricklayers 
and  hodmen.  Nay,  after  all,  they  only  exhibited  a  truly  national 
aptitude  to  become  April  fools  in  March.  But  for  British  back- 
bone Protestants,  who  have  shouted  "  No  Popery,"  and  burnt 
Guy  Fauxes,  to  adopt  a  Roman  Catholic  legend — for  free  and 
independent  householders  who  would  not  move  on  for  a  live 
policeman,  to  move  off,  bag  and  baggage,  at  the  dictum  of  a 


100  WHIMSICALITIES. 

very  dead  monk — \\ li<>  can  doubt,  after  Bach  a  ,  that 

a  Nincom  Tax  would  be  very  productive! 

As  a  subjec   for  a  comic  picture,  there  could  1";  no  richer 
for   a   modern   Hogarth  than  the  return  of  a  party  of  Earth- 
quakers  to  the  metropolis — that  very  metropolis  which  w 
have  been  knocked  down,  a>  Robins  would  Bay,  in  one  lot 
devoted  City  which  Credulity  had  lately  painted  a>  lying  pros- 
trate on  its  Corporati  >n  ! 

In  the  mean  time,  good  luck  enables  me  to  illustrate  the  great 
earthquake  of  18i2  by  a  few  letters  obtained,  no  matter  how, 
or  at  what  expense.  It  is  to  be  regretted  thai  type  can  '_::- 
imitation  of  the  hand-writings ;  Buffice  it  thai  one  of  the  notes 
has  actually  been  boob  d  ly  a  well-known  collector,  as  a  genuine 
aatograph  v(  St.  Vitus. 

i.  i. 

TO     PETER     CRISP,     ESQ. 

Ivy-Colta;;c,  fe\enoaks. 

Dear  Brother, — You  are  of  course  aware  of  tin-  awful  \ imita- 
tion with  which  we  arc  threatened. 

As  to  F.  and  myself,  business  and  duties  will  forbid  our  leaving 
London,  but  Robert  and  James  will  be  hum''  for  the  usual  fort- 
night at  Easter,  and  we  are  naturally  anxious  to  have  the  deal 
boys  out  of  the  way.  Perhaps  you  will  make  room  for  them  at 
the  cottage  ?  I  am,  dear  Brother, 

Yours  affectionately, 

Margaret  Faddy. 

THE     ANSWER. 

Dear  Sister, — As  regards  the  awful  visitation,  the  last  time 
the  dear  boys  were  at  the  Cottage  they  literally  turned  it  topsy- 
turvy. 


THE  EARTH-QUAKERS.  101 

As  such,  would  rather  say — keep  Robert  and  James  in  town, 
and  send  me  down  the  Earthquake. — Your  loving  brother, 

Peter  Crisp. 


TO     MESSRS.     H.     STALEY     AND     CO. 

Caraomile-street,  City. 

Gentlemen, — As  a  retired  tradesman  of  London  to  rural  life, 
but  unremittingly  devoted  to  the  metropolis  and  its  public  build- 
ings, am  deeply  solicitous  to  learn,  on  good  mercantile  authority, 
if  the  alarming  statements  as  to  a  ruinous  depression  in  the  Cus- 
tom-house, St.  Paul's,  and  other  fabrics,  stands  on  the  undeniable 
basis  of  fact.     An  early  answer  will  oblige, 

Your  very  obedient  servant, 

John  Stokes. 

Postscriptum. — My  barber  tells  me  the  Monument  has  been 
done  at  Lloyd's. 

THE     ANSWER. 

Sir, — In  reply  to  your  favour  of  the  14th  inst.,  I  beg  to  sub- 
join for  your  guidance  the  following  quotations  from  a  supplement 
to  this  day's  "  Price  Current :" 

"March  16. — In  Earthquakes — nothing  stirring.  Strong  Ca- 
racca  shocks  partially  inquired  for,  but  no  arrivals.  Lisbons  ditto. 
A  small  lot  of  slight  Chichesters  in  bond  have  been  brought  for- 
ward, but  obtained  no  offers.  Houses  continue  firm,  and  the 
holders  are  not  inclined  to  part  with  them.  In  Columns  and 
Obelisks  no  alteration.  Cathedrals  as  before.  Steeples  keep  up, 
and  articles  generally  are  not  so  flat  as  anticipated  by  the  specu- 
lators for  a  fall." — I  am,  sir,  for  Staley  and  Co., 

Your  most  obedient  servant, 

Charles   Stuckey. 


102  WHIMSICALITIES. 

xo.   in. 

TO  DOCTOR  DODOE,  F.A.S.,  LONDON. 

Dear  Doctor, — As  you  are  an  Antiquarian,  and  as  such  well 
acquainted,  of  course,  with  Ancient  MSS.  and  Monkish  Chronicles, 
perhaps  you  will  be  so  obliging  as  to  give  me  your  opinion  of  the 
Earthquake  predicted  by  Dr.  Dee  and  the  Monk  of  Dree,  and 
whether  it  is  mentioned  in  Doomsday  Book,  or  Icon  Basilisk,  <>r 
any  of  the  old  astrological  works. — Yours,  dear  Doctor, 

A  n  astasia  Shrewsbury. 

THE     ANSWER. 

Dear  Madam, —  1  have  no  recollection  of  such  a  Prediction  in 
any  of  the  books  you  mention  ;  but  I  will  make  a  point  of  looking 
into  the  old  chronicles.     In  tin- moan  time  it  strikes  me,  that  if 
any  <>ne  should  have  foretold  an  Earthquake  it  was  Ingulphw. 
I  am,  dear  Madam,  your  very  humble  Servant, 

T.  Dodge. 

NO.    IV. 

TO     MR.     BENJAMIN     II  O  C  K  I  N  . 

Barbican. 

Dear  Ben, — About  this  here  hearthquack.  According  to 
advice  I  rit  to  Addams  who  have  bean  to  form  Parts,  and  par- 
tickly  sow  Amerikey,  witch  is  a  shockin  country,  and  as  to  wat  is 
dun  by  the  Natives  in  the  like  case,  and  he  say  they  all  run  out 
of  their  Howses,  and  fall  down  on  their  nees  and  beat  their  brests 
like  mad,  and  cross  theirselves  and  call  out  to  the  Virgin,  and  all 
the  popish  Saints.  Witch  in  course  with  us  Christians  is  out  of 
the  question,  so  there  we  are  agin  at  a  non  plush — and  our  minds 
perfecly  misrable  for  want  of  making  up.  One  minit  it's  go  and 
the  next  minit  stay,  till  betwixt  town  and  country,  I  allmost  wish 
I  was  no  wheres  at  all.  But  how  is  minds  to  be  made  up  when 
if  you  ax  opinions,  theres  six  of  one  and  half  a  duzzon  of  the 


THE  EARTH-QUAKERS.  103 

tother- — for  I  make  a  pint  of  xtracting  my  customers  sentiments 
pro  and  con,  and  its  as  ni  a  ti  as  can  be.  One  books  the  tbing  to 
cum  off  as  sbure  as  tbe  Darby  or  Hoax,  while  another  suspends  it 
till  the  Day  of  Judgment.  And  then  he's  upset  by  a  new  cum- 
mur  in  with  the  news  that  half  St.  Giles  is  cast  down,  and  the 
inhabbifants  all  Irish  howling,  quite  dredful,  and  belabbering  their 
own  buzzums  and  crossing  themselves  all  over  as  if  it  saved  the 
Good  Friday  buns  from  being  swallered  up.  So  there  we  are 
agin.  All  dubbious.  As  for  Pawley  he  wont  have  it  at  anny 
price  but  says  its  clear  agin  Geology  and  tbe  Wolcanic  stratuses ; 
which  may  sarve  well  enuff  to  chaff  about  at  Mekanical  Innstitu- 
shuns  but  he  wont  gammon  me  tbat  theres  any  sucb  remmedy 
for  a  Hearth  Quack  as  a  basun  of  cbork — no  nor  a  basim  of  gruel 
nayther.  Well  wat  next.  Why  Podmore  swares  when  he  past 
tbe  Duck  of  York  he  see  his  hiness  anoddin  at  the  Athenium 
Club  as  if  he  ment  to  drop  in  pervided  he  didnt  pitch  in  to  the 
Unitid  Servis.  So  there  we  are  agin.  For  my  own  share  I  own 
to  sum  misgivins  and  croakins,  and  says  you,  not  without  caws 
wen  six  fammilis  in  our  street  has  gone  off  alreddy  and  three 
moia  packin  up  in  case.  Besides  witch  Radley  the  Bilder  have 
knocked  off  work  at  his  new  Howsis  for  fear  of  their  gettin 
floored  and  missis  Sims  have  declined  her  barril  of  tabel  beer  till 
arter  the  shakin.  Wen  things  cum  to  sich  aspects  they  look 
serus.  But  suppose  in  the  end  as  Gubbins  says  its  all  a  errer  of 
that  Dr.  Dee — wat  a  set  of  Dee'd  spooneys  we  shall  look.  So 
there  we  are  agin.  Then  theres  Books.  It  appear  on  reading 
the  great  Lisbon  catstrophy  were  attendid  by  an  uncommon  rush 
of  the  See  on  the  dry  Land  and  they  do  say  from  Brighton  as 
how  the  Breakers  have  reached  as  far  as  Wigney's  Bank.     That's 


104  WHIMSICALITIES. 

in  fever  agin  of  the  world  losing  its  ballance.  Howsomever  I 
have  twice  had  the  shutters  up,  and  once  got  as  fur  as  the  hos  in 
the  Shay  cart  for  a  move  off.  but  was  stopt  by  the  Maid  and  the 
Prentis  both  axin  a  hole  holliday  for  tho  sixtenth  and  in  sich  a 
stile  as  convinced  if  I  didnt  grant  they  would  take  french  leaves. 
And  then  who  is  to  mind  the  house  and  Shop  not  to  name 
two  bills  as  cum  doo  on  the  verry  day  and  made  payable  on  tho 
premmises.  Whereby  if  I  dont  go  to  smash  in  bodily  I  must  in 
bisness.  So  there  we  are  agin.  In  the  interum  theres  my  Wife 
who  keeps  wibratin  between  hopes  and  fears  like  the  pendulum  of 
a  Dutch  Clock  and  no  more  able  to  cum  to  a  conclusion.  But 
she  inclines  most  to  fever  the  dark  side  of  the  Picter  and  com- 
pares our  state  to  Purgatory,  to  Dam  someboddy  with  a  sword 
hanging  over  his  head  by  a  single  hair.  As  a  nateral  conscious 
she  cant  eat  her  wittels  and  hears  rumblins  and  has  sich  tremlins 
she  dont  know  the  hearth's  agitatings  from  her  own.  Being 
squeemisk  besides,  as  is  reckoned  by  her  a  verry  bad  sign,  becos 
why  theres  a  hearth  pi  ack  in  Robbinson  Cruso  who  describe  the 
motion  to  have  made  his  Stomich  as  sick  as  anny  one  as  is  tost  at 
See.  Well  in  course  her  flutters  aggravates  mine  till  between  our 
selves  I'm  reddy  to  bolt  out  of  house  and  home  like  a  Rabbit  and 
go  and  squat  in  the  open  Fields.  And  wats  to  end  all  this  sus- 
pense. Maybe  a  false  alarm — and  maybe  hall  to  huttums  indoors 
or  else  runnin  out  into  a  gapin  naberhood  and  swallerd  up  in  a 
crack.  Whereby  its  my  privit  opinion  we  shall  end  by  removing 
in  time  like  the  Rats  from  a  fallin  house  even  if  we  have  to  make 
shift  with  a  bed  in  the  garden,  but  witch  is  prefferable  to  an  ever- 
lastin  sleep  in  the  great  shake  down  that  nater  is  preparing. 
Thats  to  say  if  the  profesy  keeps  its  word — for  if  it  dont  we  are 


THE  EARTH-QUAKERS.  105 

better  in  our  own  beds  than  fleaing  elsewhere.  And  praps  ketch 
our  deaths  besides.  Witch  reminds  me  our  Medical  Doctor  wont 
hear  of  hearthquackery  and  says  theres  no  simtoms  of  erupshun. 
So  there  we  are  agin.  But  St.  Pauls,  and  all  Saint  Giles's  is  pel 
contra.  And  to  be  sure  as  Pat  Hourigan  says  of  the  Irish,  ant 
we  seven  fifths  of  us  hod  carriers  and  bricklairs,  and  do  you  think 
as  we'd  leave  the  same,  if  we  did'nt  expect  more  brick  and  Hiding 
materials  than  we  carry  on  our  heads  and  sholders.  Witch  sar- 
tingly  would  strongly  argy  to  the  pint,  if  so  be  their  being 
Roman  Cathliks  did'nt  religiously  bind  one  watever  they  beleave, 
to  beleave  quite  the  reverse.  And  talking  of  religion,  if  one  lis- 
tened to  it  like  a  Christin,  instid  of  dispondin  it  would  praps  say 
trust  in  Providence  and  shore  up  the  j>rernisis.  And  witch 
may  be  the  piusest  and  cheapest  plan  arter  all.  But  bisness 
interrups 

Its  the  Gibbenses  maid  for  an  Am.  Ive  pumpt  out  on  her 
that  the  fammily  is  goin  to  Windser  for  Change  of  air.  And 
Widder  Stradlin  is  goin  to  Richmond  for  change  of  Scene.  Yes 
as  much  as  I  am  goin  to  the  Lands  end  for  change  of  a  shilling. 
And  now  I  think  on  it  there  were  a  suspishus  mark  this  morning 
on  the  Public  House  paper,  namely  Edgingtons  advertisement 
about  Tents.  So  arter  all  the  open  Air  course  of  conduct — but 
annother  cum  in — 

Poor  Mrs.  Hobson,  in  the  same  perplext  state  as  myself.  To 
be  sure  as  she  say  a  slite  shock  as  wouldnt  chip  a  brass  or  iron 
man  would  shatter  a  chaney  woman  all  to  smash.  But  wats  the 
use  of  her  cummin  to  me  to  be  advised  wen  I  carnt  advize  my- 
self ?  Howsomever  a  word  or  two  from  your  Ben  would  go  fur 
to  convict  me — Only  beggin  you  to  considder  that  Self  Preseva- 
shun  is  the  fust  law  of  Nater,  and  the  more  binding  as  its  a  law 


106 


WHIMSICALITIES. 


a  in.in  is  allowed  to  take  into  his  own  hands.     As  the  crisus 
approach,  a  speedy  answer  will  releave  the  mind  of 

Your  loving  Brother, 

James  Hockix. 
P.S. — Since  riting  the  abuv  the  Reverend  Mister  Grumpier,  as 
my  wife  sits  under,  have  dropt  in  and  confirmed  the  wust.     He 


THE     REV.     MR.     CRUMPLER. 


say  its  a  Judgment  on  the  Citty  and  by  way  of  Cobberrobberation 
has  named  several  partis  in  our  naberhood  as  is  to  be  ingulphed. 
That  settles  us,  and  in  course  will  excuse  cuttin  short. 


THE  EARTH-QUAKERS.  107 

NO.    V. 
TO    MRS.     **** 

No.  9, Street. 

Madam, — It  may  seem  stooping  to  take  up  a  dropped  corre- 
spondence, but  considering  that  an  Earthquake  ought  to  bury  all 
animosities,  and  enjoying  the  prospect  of  an  eternal  separation 
Christian  charity  induces  to  say  I  am  agreeable  on  my  part  for 
the  breach  between  us  to  be  repaired  by  a  shaking  of  hands. 

I  am,  Madam, 
Yours,  &c, 

Belinda  Huffin. 

THE  ANSWER. 

Madam, — I  trust  I  have  as  much  Christian  charity  as  my 
neighbours — praps  more — and  hope  I  have  too  much  true  religion 
to  believe  in  judicious  astronomy.  And  if  I  did,  hava  never 
heard  that  earthquakes  was  remarkable  for  repairing  breaches. 

When  every  thing  else  shakes,  I  will  shake  hands,  but  not  be- 
fore. I  am,  Madam, 

Yours,  <fec, 
Matilda  Perks. 

no.  VI. 

FOR     REBECCA     SLACK. 

2,  Fisher's  Plaice,  Knightsbridge. 

Dear  Becky, — If  so  be  when  you  cum  to  Number  9,  on  Sun- 
day and  Me  not  there  don't  be  terrifide.  Its  not  suicide  and  the 
Surpentine  but  the  Earthquake.  John  is  the  same  as  ever  but 
Ive  allmost  giv  meself  Warning  without  the  Munths  notis.  Last 
nite  there  cum  a  ring  at  the  Bel,  a  regular  chevy  and  Noboddj 
there.  Cook  sed  a  runaway  Lark  but  I  no  better.  And  John 
says  Medicle  Studints  but  I  say  shox.     Howsumaver  if  the  bel 


108  WHIMSICALITIES. 

ring  agen  of  its  own  Hcd  I'm  off  quake  or  no  quake  to  my  muther 
at  Srewsbeny  Srops.  One  may  trust  to  drunken  yung  gentilmen 
too  long  and  mistake  a  rumbel  at  the  Anti  Pods  for  skrewin  off 
the  nocker.  No,  no.  So  as  I  scd  aforo  another  ring  will  be  a 
hint  to  fly  tho  one  thing  is  ockard,  namely  the  crisus  fixt  for  the 
1G  and  my  quarter  not  up  til  the  20.  But  wats  wagis  i  Their 
no  object  wen  yure  an  Objec  yurself  for  the  Ospittle.  To  be 
shure  Missus  may  complain  of  a  Non  Plush  but  wat  of  that. 
Self  preservin  is  the  law  of  Nater  and  is  wat  distinguishes  reason- 
ing Beings  from  Damsuns  and  Bullises. 

Mister  Butler  is  of  my  own  friteful  way  of  thinkin  and  quite 
retchid  about  the  shakin  up  of  his  port  wine  for  he  allways  calls  it 
hisn  and  dreadful  low  his  Hart  being  in  his  celler.  But  Cook 
chooses  to  sei  her  Face  agin  the  finomunon.  Don't  tell  me  saya 
she  of  the  earth  quakin — its  crust  isnt  made  so  light  andshivvery. 
ye  cum  to  Wurds  on  the  subject  and  even  been  warm  but 
its  impossible  to  talk  with  sang  fraw  of  wat  freezes  ones  Blud. 
But  wot  can  one  expec  as  Mister  Butler  says  but  Convulsions  of 
Nater  wen  we  go  boring  into  the  Erths  bowils  witch  as  all  the 
wurld  nose  is  chock  full  of  Combustibuls  as  ketching  as  Col  . 
and  Lucefirs.  We  might  have  tuck  warning  by  the  Frentch  he 
says  witch  driv  irun  pipes  and  toobs  down  and  drewthem  up  again 
all  twisted  by  the  stratums  into  Cork  skrews  with  the  Ends  red 
hot  or  melted  off.     So  much  for  pryin  into  the  innfurnel  regit! is. 

As  you  may  suppose  I  am  melancholly  enuf  at  sich  a  prospict. 
But  if  a  Erth  Quake  isnt  to  cast  one  down  wat  is  ?  I  never  go 
to  my  Piller  but  I  pray  to  sleep  without  rockin  or  having  the 
roof  come  down  atop  of  me  like  a  sparrer  in  a  brick  Trap.  And 
then  sich  horrible  Dreams  !  Ony  last  nite  I  dremt  the  hole  su 
structer  was  on  my  chest  and  stomak  but  luckly  it  were  oni 


THE  EARTH- QUAKERS.  109 

Nite  Mare  and  cold  Pork.  And  in  the  day  time  its  nothin  but 
takin  in  visitter  cards  with  Poor  Prender  Congy  witch  you  know 
means  Frentcb.  leave  and  not  a  bit  to  erly  if  correct  that  Saint 
Pauls  bare  sunk  down  to  its  Doom.  To  be  sbure  I  over  beerd 
Master  say  that  even  Saint  Faitb  don't  beleave  in  it.  But  she  is 
no  rule  for  Me.  Why  sbudn't  we  be  over-whelmed  as  Mister 
Butler  says  as  well  as  tbe  Herculeans  andPompy?  I'm  sbure  we 
deserve  it  for  our  sins  and  piccadillies. 

Well  time  will  show.  But  its  our  duty  all  the  same  to  look 
arter  our  savings.  John  thinks  Mister  Green  have  the  best  chance 
by  assenting  on  the  day  in  his  Voxall  baloon  but  gud  gratious  as 
Mister  Butler  says  suppose  the  wurld  was  to  anniliate  itself  while 
he  was  up  in  the  Air.  One  bad  better  trust  to  the  most  aggita- 
ted  Terry  Firmer.  Wat  sort  of  soil  is  most  propperest  for  the 
purpus  has  been  debatted  among  us  a  good  deal.  One  thinks 
mountin  tops  is  safest  and  anuther  considdurs  we  ort  all  to  be  in  a 
Mash.  Lord  nose.  The  Baker  says  his  Master  has  inshured  his- 
self  agin  the  erth  quake  and  got  the  Globe  to  kiver  him. 

There  Missus  bel  so  adew  in  haste. 

Mary   Sawkins. 

Proscrip. — While  I  was  up  in  the  drawin  room  master  talkt 
very  misterus  about  St.  Pauls.  Its  all  a  resport  says  he  from 
one  of  the  Miner  Cannons. 

NO.    VII. 

TO    SIR    W.      FLIMSY,     BART.,    AND    CO. 

Lombard-street,  City. 

Gentlemen, — I  beg  respectfully  to  inform  you  that  placing 
implicit  confidence  in  the  calamity  which  will  come  due  on  the 
16th  instant,  I  have  felt  it  my  duty  to  remove  myself  and  the 
cash  balance  to  a  place  of  security.     It  is  my  full  intention,  how- 


110  WHIMSICALITIES. 

ever,  to  return  to  my  post  after  the  Earthquake ;  and,  I  trust, 
instead  of  condemning,  you  will  thank  me  for  preserving  your 
property,  when  I  come  back  and  restore  it. 

I  am,  Gentlemen, 
Your  very  faithful  and  obedient, 

Servant  and  cashier, 
Samuel  Boulter 

NO.    VIII. 

TO    MR.     BENJAMIN     HOCKIN. 

(Vide  No.  iv.) 

Dear  Benjamin, — In  my  last  I  broke  short  through  sitting 
off — and  now  have  to  inform  of  our  safe  Return  and  the  Premisis 
all  sound.  The  wus  luck  to  have  let  Meself  be  Shay  carted  off 
on  a  April  Fool's  arrand,  as  bad  as  piggins  milk.  For  wat  re- 
manes  in  futer  but  to  become  a  laffing  stock  to  our  nabers  and 
being  ninny-hammered  at  like  nails.  As  for  the  parler  at  the 
Crown  that's  shut  agin  me  for  ever,  for  them  quizzical  fellers  as 
frequents  could  rost  a  Ox  whole  in  the  way  of  banterin.  So 
were  I'm  to  spend  my  evinins  except  with  my  wife  Lord  nose. 
There  misery  in  prospect  at  once. 

Has  for  servin  in  the  shop  I  couldnt  feel  more  sheapish  and 
shamfaced  if  I  had  bean  out  in  short  wait  and  adultering.  Its 
no  odds  my  customers  houlding  their  Tungs  about  it — the  more 
they  don't  say  the  more  I  know  wat  they  mean,  and  witch  as 
silent  contempt  is  wus  than  even  a  little  blaggard  cumming  as  he 
did  just  now,  and  axing  for  a  small  hapenny  shock.  Not  that  I 
mind  Sarce  so  much  as  make  believe  pitty.  Its  the  wimmiu 
with  their  confoundid  simperthisin  as  agrivates  sich  as  hoping  no 
cold  was  cotched  from  the  nite  dues  and  lammenting  our  trouble 
and  expense  for  nothink.     With  all  respect  to  the  sex  if  it  pleas 


THE  EARTH-QUAKERS.  Ill 

God  to  let  one  see  thern  now  and  then  with  their  jaws  tide  up 
for  the  Tung  Ake  as  well  as  the  Tooth  Ake  wood  be  no  harm. 
There's  that  Missis  Mummery  wood  comfort  a  man  into  a  brain 
Fever.  And  indeed  well  ni  soothd  me  into  a  fury  wat  with  con- 
doling on  our  bamboozilment  and  her  sham  abram  concern  for 
our  unlucky  step.  She  cum  for  Pickels  and  its  lucky  for  both 
there  was  no  Pison  handy.  But  I  ort  to  take  an  assiduous  draft 
meself  for  swallering  such  stuff.  As  praps  I  shall  if  dont  fly  to 
hard  drinking  insted.  Becos  why,  I  know  I've  sunk  meself  in 
public  opinnion  and  indeed  feel  as  if  all  Lonnon  was  takin  a 
sight  at  me.  Many  a  man  have  took  his  razer  and  cut  his  stick 
for  less. 

Has  for  my  wife  her  fust  move  on  cumming  Home  was  up 
stares  and  into  Bed  where  she  remained  quite  inconsoluble,  being 
more  hurt  in  her  Mind  she  say  then  if  she  had  had  a  leg  broke 
by  the  Herth  quake.  And  witch  I  really  think  could  not  more 
have  upset  her.  Howsumever  there  she  lays  almost  off  her  Hed 
and  from  wat  I  know  of  her  cute  feelings  and  temper  is  likely 
to  never  be  happy  agin  nor  to  let  anny  one  else.  There's  a  luck 
out — and  no  children  of  our  own  to  vent  on. 

In  course  its  more  nor  I  dares  to  tell  her  of  the  nonimus  Let- 
ter like  a  Walentine  with  a  picter  of  a  Cock  and  Bull,  and  that's 
only  a  four  runner.  Well,  its  our  hone  falts,  if  that  anny  comfort 
which  it  ant,  but  all  the  hevier,  like  sum  loves  and  tee  cakes,  for 
bein  home  made. 

The  sum  totle  on  it  is  Ime  upset  for  Life.  I  harnt  got  Brass 
enuf  to  remane  in  Bisness  nor  yet  made  Tin  enuf  to  retire  out 
on  it.  Otherwis  Ide  take  a  Wilier  in  Stanter  and  keap  dux. 
My  ony  cumfit  is  I  arnt  a  citty  Maggystrut  and  obleegd  to  sit  in 
Gild  all  arter  bein  throwd  into  sich  a  botomless  panikin.     How 


112  WHIMSICALITIES. 

his  Wasliup  Mister  Bowlbee  can  sit  in  Publick  I  donl  know  for 
lie  was  one  of  the  veny  fust  to  cut  away.  Ketch  me  Baya  be 
astayin  in  Crippelgit.  I  know  it's  my  ward  but  it  won't  ward 
off  a  shock. 

So  much  for  Hearth  Quacks.  The  end  will  be  I  shall  turn  to 
a  Universal  Septic  and  then  1  supose  watever  I  dont  beleave  will 
come  to  pass.  Indeed  I  am  almost  of  the  same  mind  alreddy 
with  Dadley  the  Baker.  Dont  trust  nothing,  says  he,  till  it 
happen,  and  not  even  then  if  it  don't  suit  to  give  credit. 

Dear  Ben,  pray  rite  if  you  can  say  anny  thing  consoling  under 
an  ounce — for  witch  a  Stamp  inclosed 

Your  hiving  Brother, 

James  Hockin. 

P.  S. — The  Reverind  Mister  Crumpler  have  just  bean,  and  ex- 
plained to  me  the  odds  betwixt  Old  and  New  Btiles,  whereby  the 
real  Day  for  the  Hearth  Quack  is  still  to  cum,  name  Monday  the 
28th  Instant.     So  there  we  are  agin! 


113 


€tyt  fhmii. 

Alone,  across  a  foreign  plain, 

The  Exile  slowly  wanders, 
And  on  his  Isle  beyond  the  main 

With  saddened  spirit  ponders : 

This  lovely  Isle  beyond  the  sea, 
With  all  its  household  treasures; 

Its  cottage  homes,  its  merry  birds, 
And  all  its  rural  pleasures : 

Its  leafy  woods,  its  shady  vales, 
Its  moors,  and  purple  heather  ; 

Its  verdant  fields  bedeck'd  with  stars 
His  childhood  loved  to  gather: 

When  lo !  he  starts  with  glad  surprise, 
Home-joys  come  rushing  o'er  him, 

For  "  modest,  wee,  and  crimson-tipp'd," 
He  spies  the  flower  before  him  ! 

With  eager  haste  he  stoops  him  down, 
His  eyes  with  moisture  hazy, 

And  as  he  plucks  the  simple  bloom, 
He  murmurs,  "  Lawk-a-daisy !" 


114 


€  \)  t   d?  r  i  m  s  li  t|   dB  Ij  n  s  t . 


CHAPTER  I. 

Tn-  tlie  town  of  Grimsby 

"But  stop,"  says  the  Courteous  and  Prudent  Reader,  "  are 
there  any  such  things  as  Ghosts?" 

"Any  G  hostesses !"  cries  Superstition,  who  Bettled  long  since 
in  the  country,  near  a  churchyard,  on  ;i  rising  ground,  "any 
G hostesses !  Ay,  man — lots  on 'em  1  bushels  on 'em!  Bights  on 
'em!  Why,  there's  one  as  walks  in  our  parish,  reglar  as  tin- 
clock  strikes  twelv — and  always  the  Bame  round — over  church- 
stile,  round  the  corner,  through  the  gap,  into  Short's  Spinney, 
and  so  along  into  our  close,  where  he  takes  a  drink  at  the  pump, 
— for  ye  see  he  died  in  liquor, — and  then  arter  he's  squentched 
hisself  wanishes  into  waper.  Then  there's  the  ghost  of  old  Beales, 
as  goes  o'  nights  and  sows  tears  in  his  neighbor's  wheats — I've 
often  seed  un  in  seed  time.  They  do  say  that  Black  Ben,  the 
Poacher,  have  riz,  and  what's  more,  walked  slap  through  all  the 
Squire's  steeltraps  without  springing  on  'em.  And  then  there's 
Bet  Hawkey  as  murdered  her  own  infant — only  the  poor  babby 
hadn't  lamed  to  walk,  and  so  can't  appear  agin  her." 

But  not  to  refer  only  to  the  ignorant  and  illiterate  vulgar,  there 
are  units,  tens,  hundreds,  thousands  of  well-bred  and  educated 
persons,  Divines,  Lawyers,  military,  and  especially  naval  officers, 
Artists,  Authors,  Players,  Schoolmasters  and  Governesses,  and 
fine  ladies,  who  secretly  believe  that  the  dead  are  on  visiting  terms 


THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  115 

svith  the  living — nay,  the  great  Doctor  Johnson  himself  affirmed 
solemnly  that  he  had  a  call  from  his  late  mother,  who  had  been 
buried  many  years.  Ask  at  the  right  time,  and  in  the  right 
place,  and  in  the  right  manner — only  affect  a  belief,  though  you 
have  it  not,  so  that  the  party  may  feel  assured  of  sympathy  and 
insured  against  ridicule — and  nine-tenths  of  mankind  will  confess 
a  faith  in  Apparitions.  It  is  in  truth  an  article  in  the  creed  of 
our  natural  religion — a  corollary  of  the  recognition  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul.  The  presence  of  spirits — visible  or  invisible — 
is  an  innate  idea,  as  exemplified  by  the  instinctive  night  terrors  of 
infancy,  and  recently  so  touchingly  illustrated  by  the  evidence  of 
the  poor  little  colliery-girl,  who  declared  that  "  she  sang,  whiles,  at 
her  subterranean  task,  but  never  when  she  was  alone  in  the  dark." 

It  is  from  this  cause  that  the  Poems  and  Ballads  on  spectral 
subjects  have  derived  their  popularity :  for  instance,  Margaret's 
Ghost — Mary's  Dream — and  the  Ghost  of  Admiral  Hosier — not 
to  forget  the  Drama,  with  that  awful  Phantom  in  "  Hamlet," 
whose  word  in  favour  of  the  Supernatural,  we  all  feel  to  be  worth 
"  a  thousand  pound." 

"  And  then  the  Spectre  in  '  Don  Giovanni  ?'" 

No.  That  Marble  Walker,  with  his  audible  tramp,  tramp, 
tramp,  on  the  staircase,  is  too  substantial  for  my  theory.  It  was 
a  Ghost  invented  expressly  for  the  Materialists ;  but  is  as  inad- 
missible amongst  genuine  Spirits  as  that  wooden  one  described 
by  old  W.  the  shipowner — namely,  the  figure  head  of  the  Brit- 
annia, which  appeared  to  him,  he  declared,  on  the  very  night  that 
she  found  a  watery  grave  off  Cape  Cod. 

"  Well— after  that— go  on." 


116  WHIMSICALITIES. 

CHAPTER  II. 

In  the  town  of  Grimsby,  at  the  corner  of  Swivel-street,  there  is 
a  little  chandler's  shop,  which  was  kept  for  many  years  by  a  wi- 
dow of  the  name  of  Mullins.  She  was  a  cartful,  thrifty  body,  a 
perfect  woman  of  business,  with  a  sharp  gray  eye  to  the  main 
chance,  a  quick  ear  for  the  ring  of  good  or  bad  metal,  and  a  i 
hand  at  the  counter.  Indeed,  she  was  apt  to  give  such  scrimp 
weight  and  measure,  that  her  customers  invariably  manoeuvred  to 
be  served  by  her  daughter,  who  was  supposed  to  be  more  liberal 
at  the  scale,  by  a  full  ounce  in  the  pound.  The  man  and  maid 
servants,  it  is  true,  who  bought  on  commission,  did  not  care  much 
about  the  matter ;  but  the  poor  hungry  father,  the  poor  frugal 
mother,  the  little  ragged  girl,  and  the  little  dirty  bey,  all  retained 
their  pence  in  their  hands,  till  they  could  thrusl  them,  with  their 
humble  requests  for  ounces  or  half-ounces  of  tea,  brown  sugar,  or 
single  Gloster,  towards  "  Miss  Mullins,"  who  was  supposed  to 
better  their  dealings, — if  dealings  they  might  be  called,  where  no 
deal  of  any  thing  was  ^purchased.  She  was  a  tall,  bony  female,  of 
about  thirty  years  of  age,  but  apparently  forty,  with  a  very  homely 
set  of  features,  and  the  staid,  sedate  carnage  of  a  spinster  who 
feels  herself  to  be  set  in  for  a  single  life.  There  was  indeed  "  no 
love  nonsense "  about  her :  and  as  to  romance,  she  had  never  so 
much  as  looked  into  a  novel,  or  read  a  line  of  poetry  in  her  life — 
her  thoughts,  her  feelings,  her  actions,  wTere  all  liko  her  occupa- 
tion, of  the  most  plain,  prosaic  character — the  retailing  of  soap, 
starch,  sand-paper,  red-herrings,  and  Flanders  brick.  Except  Sun- 
days, when  she  went  twice  to  chapel,  her  days  were  divided  be- 
tween the  little  back-parlour  and  the  front  shop — between  a 
patchwork  counterpane  which  she  had  been  stitching  at  for  ten 


THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  117 

long  years,  and  that  other  counter  work  to  which  she  was  sum- 
moned, every  few  minutes,  by  the  importunities  of  a  little  bell 
that  rang  every  customer  in,  like  the  new  year,  and  then  rang 
him  out  again  like  the  old  one.  It  was  her  province,  moreover, 
to  set  down  all  unready  money  orders  on  a  slate,  but  the  widow 
took  charge  of  the  books,  or  rather  the  book,  in  which  every  item 
of  account  was  entered,  with  a  rigid  punctuality  that  would  have 
done  honour  to  a  regular  counting-house  clerk. 

Under  such  management  the  little  chandler's  shop  was  a 
thriving  concern,  and  with  the  frugal,  not  to  say  parsimonious 
habits  of  mother  and  daughter,  enabled  the  former  to  lay  by 
annually  her  one  or  two  hundred  pounds,  so  that  Miss  Mullins 
was  in  a  fair  way  of  becoming  a  fortune,  when  towards  the 
autumn  of  1838  the  widow  was  suddenly  taken  ill  at  her  book, 
in  the  very  act  of  making  out  a  little  bill,  which  alas !  she  never 
lived  to  sum  up.  The  disorder  progressed  so  rapidly  that  on  the 
second  day  she  was  given  over  by  the  doctor,  and  on  the  third 
by  the  apothecary,  having  lost  all  power  of  swallowing  his  medi- 
cines. The  distress  of  her  daughter,  thus  threatened  with  the 
sudden  rending  of  her  only  tie  in  the  world,  may  be  conceived  ; 
while,  to  add  to  her  affliction,  her  dying  parent,  though  perfectly 
sensible,  was  unable,  from  a  paralysis  of  the  organs  of  speech, 
to  articulate  a  single  word.  She  tried  nevertheless  to  speak,  with 
a  singular  perseverance,  but  all  her  struggles  for  utterance  were 
in  vain.  Her  eyes  rolled  frightfully,  the  muscles  about  the 
mouth  worked  convulsively,  and  her  tongue  actually  writhed  till 
she  foamed  at  the  lips,  but  without  producing  more  than  such  an 
unintelligible  sound  as  is  sometimes  heard  from  the  deaf  and 
dumb.  It  was  evident  from  the  frequency  and  vehemence  of 
these  efforts  that  she  had  something  of  the  utmost  importance  to 


118  WHIMSICALITIES. 

communicate,  and  which  her  weeping  daughter  at  last  implored 
her  to  make  known  by  means  of  signs. 

"  Had  she  any  thing  weighing  heavy  on  her  mind  ?" 

The  sick  woman  nodded  her  head. 

"  Did  she  want  any  one  to  be  sent  for  ?" 

The  head  was  Bhaken. 

"  Was  it  about  making  her  will  ?" 

Another  mute  negative. 

"  Did  she  wish  to  have  farther  medical  advice  ?" 

A  gesture  of  great  impatience. 

"  Would  she  try  to  write  down  her  meaning  ?" 

The  head  nodded,  and  the  writing-materials  were  immediately 
procured.  The  dying  woman  was  propped  up  in  bed,  a  lead- 
pencil  was  placed  in  her  right  hand,  and  a  quire  of  foolscap  was 
set  before  her.  With  extreme  difficulty  she  contrived  to  scribble 
the  single  word  MARY;  but  before  she  could  form  another 
letter,  the  hand  suddenly  dropped,  scratching  a  long  mark,  like 
what  the  Germans  call  a  Devotion  Stroke,  from  the  top  to  tho 
bottom  of  the  paper, — her  face  assumed  an  intense  expression  of 
despair — there  was  a  single  deep  groan — then  a  heavy  sigh — and 
ffie  Widow  Mullins  was  a  corpse  ! 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  Gracious  !  how  shocking ! "  cries  Morbid  Curiosity.  "  And 
to  die,  too,  without  telling  her  secret !  What  could  the  poor 
creature  have  on  her  mind  to  lay  so  heavy  !  I'd  give  the  world 
to  know  what  it  was !  A  shocking  murder,  perhaps,  and  the 
remains  of  her  poor  husband  buried  Lord  knows  where — so  that 


THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  119 

nobody  can  enjoy  the  horrid  discovery — and  the  digging  of  him 
up ! " 

No,  Madam — nor  the  boiling  and  parboiling  of  his  viscera  to 
detect  traces  of  poison. 

"  To  be  sure  not.  It's  a  sin  and  shame,  it  is,  for  people  to  go 
out  of  the  world  with  such  mysteries  confined  to  their  own  bosom. 
But  perhaps  it  was  only  a  hoard  of  money  that  she  had  saved  up 
in  private  ? " 

Very  possibly,  madam.  In  fact  Mrs*.7' Humphreys,  the  carpen- 
ter's wife,  who  was  present  at  the  death,  was  so  firmly  of  that 
persuasion,  that  before  the  iuxly  was  cold,  although  not  the 
searcher,  she  had  exercised  the  right  of  search  in  every  pot,  pan, 
box,  basket,  drawer,  cupboard,  chimney — in  short,  every  hole  and 
corner  in  the  premises. 

"  Ay,  and  I'll  be  bound  discovered  a  heap  of  golden  guineas  in 
an  old  teapot." 

No,  Madam — not  a  dump.  At  least  not  in  the  teapot — but 
in  a  hole  near  the  sink — she  found — 

"  What,  sir  ?— pray  what  ?  " 

Two  black-beetles,  ma'am,  and  a  money-spinner. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Well,  the  corpse  of  the  deceased  Widow  received  the  usual 
rites.  It  was  washed — laid  out — and  according  to  old  provincial 
custom,  strewed  with  rosemary  and  other  sweet  herbs.  A  plate 
full  of  salt  was  placed  on  the  chest — one  lighted  candle  was  set 
near  the  head,  and  another  at  the  feet,  whilst  the  Mrs.  Hum- 
phreys, before-mentioned,  undertook  to  sit  up  through  the  night 
and  "  watch  the  body."     A  half-dozen  of  female  neighbours  also 


120  WHIMSICALITIES. 

volunteered  their  services,  and  sat  in  the  little  back-parlour  by 
way  of  company  for  the  bereaved  daughter,  who,  by  the  mere 
force  of  habit,  had  caught  up  and  begun  mechanically  to  stitch  at 
the  patchwork-counterpane,  with  one  corner  of  which  she  occa- 
sionally and  absently  wiped  her  eyes — the  action  strangely  con- 
trasting with  such  a  huge  and  harlequin  handkerchief.  In  the 
discourse  of  the  gossips  she  took  no  part  or  interest,  in  reality  she 
did  not  hear  the  convention,  her  ear  still  Beeming  painfully  on 
the  stretch  to  catch  those  la>t  dying  words  which  her  poor  mother 
had  been  unable  to  utter.  In  her  mind's  eye  she  was  still  watch- 
ing those  dreadful  contortions  which  disfigured  the  features  of  her 
dying  parent  during  her  convulsive  efforts  to  speak — she  still  saw 
those  desperate"  attempts  to  write,  and  then  that  leaden  fall  of  the. 
cold  hand,  and  the  long  scratch  of  the  random  pencil  that  broke 
off  for  ever  and  ever  the  mysterious  revelation.  A  more  romantic 
or  ambitious  nature  would  perhaps  have  fancied  that  the  undi- 
vulged  secret  referred  to  her  own  birth  ;  a  more  avaricious  spirit 
might  have  dreamed  that  the  disclosure  related  to  hidden  trea- 
sure ;  and  a  more  suspicious  character  might  have  even  supposed 
that  death  had  suppressed  some  confession  of  undiscovered  guilt. 
But  the  plain  matter-of-fact  mind  of  Mary  Mullins  was  incapa- 
ble of  such  speculations.  Instead  of  dreaming,  therefore,  of  an 
airy  coronet,  or  ideal  bundles  of  bank-notes,  or  pots  full  of  gold 
and  silver  coin,  or  a  disinterred  skeleton,  she  only  stitched  on,  and 
then  wept,  and  then  stitched  on  again  at  the  motley  coverlet, 
wondering  amongst  her  other  vague  wonders  why  no  little  dirty 
boys,  or  ragged  little  girls,  came  as  usual  for  penny  candles  and 
rushlights.  The  truth  being  that  the  gossips  had  considerately 
muffled  up  the  shop-bell,  for  vulgar  curiosity  had  caused  a  consi- 
derable influx  of  extra  custom,  so  that  thanks  to  another  precau- 


THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  121 

tion  in  suppressing  noises,  the  little  chandler's  shop  presented  the 
strange  anomaly  of  a  roaring  trade  carried  on  in  a  whisper. 

Owing  to  this  circumstance  it  was  nearly  midnight  before  the 
shop-shutters  were  closed,  the  street  door  was  locked,  the  gas 
turned  off,  and  the  sympathising  females  prepared  to  sit  down  to 
a  light,  sorrowful  supper  of  tripe  and  onions. 

In  the  mean  time  the  candles  in  the  little  back  parlour  had 
burned  down  to  the  socket,  into  which  one  glimmering  wick  at 
last  suddenly  plunged,  and  was  instantly  drowned  in  a  warm 
bath  of  liquid  grease.  This  trivial  incident  sufficed  to  arouse  Miss 
Mullins  from  her  tearful  stupor  ;  she  quietly  put  down  the  patch- 
work, and  without  speaking,  passed  into  the  shop,  which  was 
now  pitch-dark,  and  with  her  hand  began  to  grope  for  a  bunch 
of  long  sixes,  which  she  knew  hung  from  a  particular  shelf.  In- 
deed, she  could  blindfolded  have  laid  her  hand  on  any  given 
article  in  the  place  ;  but  her  fingers  had  no  sooner  closed  on  the 
cold  clammy  tallow,  than  with  a  loud  shrill  scream  that  might 
have  awakened  the  dead — if  the  dead  were  ever  so  awakened — 
she  sank  down  on  the  sandy  floor  in  a  strong  fit ! 

"  La !  how  ridiculous  !  What  from  only  feeling  a  tallow- 
candle  ?" 

No,  ma'am  ;  but  from  only  seeing  her  mother,  in  her  habit  as 
she  lived,  standing  at  her  old  favourite  post  in  the  shop  ;  that  is 
to  say,  at  the  little  desk,  between  the  great  black  coffee-mill  and 
the  barrel  of  red-herrino-s. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  What !  a  Ghost — a  regular  Apparition  ?" 

Yes,  sir,  a  disembodied  spirit,  but  clothed  in  some  ethereal 
6 


122  WHIMSICALITIES. 

substance,  not  tangible,  but  of  such  a  texture  as  to  bo  visible  to 
the  ocular  sense. 

"Bali!  ocular  nonsense!  All  moonshine!  Ghosts  be  hang- 
ed I — no  such  things  in  nature — too  late  in  the  day  for  them,  by 
a  whole  century— quite  exploded — wen!  out  with  the  old  wii 
No,  no,  sir,  the  ghost-  haw  had  their  day,  and  were  all  laid  long 
ago,  before  the  wood  pavement  What  should  they  come  for? 
The  potters  and  the  colliers  may  rise  for  higher  wages,  and  the 
chartists  may  rise  for  reform,  and  Joseph  Sturge  may  rise  for  his 
health,  and  the  sun  may  rise,  and  the  bread  may  rise,  and  the  sea 
may  rise,  and  the  rising  generation  may  rise,  and  all  to  some 
good  or  bad  purpose ;  but  that  the  dead  and  buried  should  rise, 
only  to  make  one's  hair  rise,  is  mure  than  I  can  credit." 

They  may  have  some  messages  or  errands  to  the  living. 

"Yes,  and  can't  deliver  them  for  want  of  breath ;  or  can't 
execute  them  for  the  want  of  physical  force.  Just  consider  your- 
self a  ghost " 

Excuse  me. 

"  Pshaw  !  I  only  meant  for  the  sake  of  argument.  I  say, 
suppose  yourself  a  ghost.  "Well,  if  you  come  up  out  of  your 
grave  to  serve  a  friend,  how  are  you  to  help  him  ?  And  if  it's 
an  enemy,  what's  the  use  of  appearing  to  him  if  you  can't  pitch 
into  him  P 

"Why,  at  least  it  is  showing  your  Spirit. 

"  Humph  !  that's  true.     Well,  proceed." 


CHAPTER   VI. 

There  is  nothing  more  startling  to  the  human  nerves  than  a 
female  scream.     Not   a   make-believe   squall,  at  a  spider  or  a 


THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST  123 

mouse,  but  a  real,  shrill,  sharp,  ear-piercing  shriek,  as  if  from  the 
very  pitchpipe  of  mortal  fear.  Nothing  approaches  it  in  thrilling 
effect,  except  the  railway  whistle ;  which,  indeed,  seems  only  to 
come  from  the  throat  of  a  giantess,  instead  of  that  of  an  ordinary 
woman. 

The  sudden  outcry  from  the  little  shop  had  therefore  an  ap- 
palling effect  on  the  company  in  the  little  back  parlour,  who  for 
the  moment  were  struck  as  dizzy  and  stupified  by  that  flash  of 
sound,  as  if  it  had  been  one  of  lightning.  Their  first  impulse 
was  to  set  up  a  chorus  of  screams,  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the 
same  key ;  the  next,  to  rush  in  a  body  to  the  shop,  where  they 
found  the  poor  orphan,  as  they  called  her,  insensible  on  the  floor. 

The  fit  was  a  severe  one  ;  but,  luckily  the  gossips  were  experi- 
enced in  all  kinds  of  swoons,  hysterics,  and  faintings,  and  used 
each  restorative  process  so  vigourously,  burning,  choking,  pinch- 
ing, slapping,  and  excoriating,  that  in  a  very  few  minutes  the 
patient  was  restored  to  consciousness,  and  a  world  of  pain.  It  was 
a  long  time,  however,  before  she  became  collected  enough  to  give 
an  account  of  the  Apparition — that  she  had  seen  her  Mother,  or 
at  least  her  Ghost,  standing  beside  her  old  desk ;  that  the  figure 
had  turned  towards  her,  and  had  made  the  same  dreadful  faces 
as  before,  as  if  endeavouring  to  speak  to  her — a  communication 
which  took  such  effect  on  the  hearers  that,  with  one  exception, 
they  immediately  put  on  their  bonnets  and  departed  ;  leaving  old 
Mrs.  Dadley,  who  was  stone  deaf,  and  had  only  imperfectly  heard 
the  story,  to  sleep  with  Miss  Mullins  in  what  was  doomed  thence- 
forward to  be  a  Haunted  House.  The  night,  nevertheless,  passed 
over  in  quiet ;  but  towards  morning  the  ghostly  Mother  appeared 
again  to  the  daughter  in  a  dream,  and  with  the  same  contortions 
of  her  mouth  attempted  to  speak  her  mind,  but  with  the  same  ill 


1 24  WHIMSICALITIES. 

success.  The  secret,  whatever  it  was,  seemed  irrevocably  com- 
mitted to  Silence  and  Eternity. 

In  the  mean  time,  ere  breakfast,  the  walking  of  Widow  Mulhns 
had  (ravelled  from  one  end  of  Grimsby  to  the  other;  and  for 
the  rest  of  the  day  the  little  chandler's  shop  at  the  corner  of 
Swivel-street  was  surrounded  by  a  mob  of  men,  women,  and 
children  who  came  to  gaze  at  the  Haunted  House — not  without 
some  dim  anticipations  of  perhaps  seeing  the  Ghost  at  one  of 
the  windows.  Few  females  in  the  position  of  Mary  Mullins 
would  have  remained  under  its  roof;  but  to  all  invitations  from 
well-meaning  people  she  turned  a  deaf  ear,  she  had  been  born 
and  bred  on  the  premises — the  little  back-parlour  was  her  home 
— and  from  long  service  at  the  counter,  she  had  become — to 
alter  a  single  letter  in  a  line  of  Dibdm's — 

All  one  as  a  piece  of  the  shop. 

As  to  the  Apparition,  if  it  ever  appeared  again,  she  said,  "  the 
Ghost  was  the  Ghost  of  her  own  Parent,  and  would  not  harm  a 
hair  of  her  head.  Perhaps,  after  the  funeral,  the  Spirit  would 
rest  in  peace  :  but  at  any  rate,  her  mind  was  made  up,  not  to 
leave  the  house — no,  not  till  she  was  carried  out  of  it  like  her 
poor  dear  Mother." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  And  pray,  Mr.  Author,  what  is  your  own  private  opinion  ? 
Do  you  really  believe  in  Ghosts,  or  that  there  was  any  truth  in 
the  story  of  this  Grimsby  Apparition  ?" 

Heaven  knows,  madam !  In  ordinary  cases  I  should  have 
ascribed  such  a  tale  to  a  love  of  the  marvellous  ;  but,  as  I  before 


THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  125 

stated,  Miss  Mullins  was  not  prone  to  romance,  and  had  never 
read  a  work  of  fiction  in  her  whole  life.  Again,  the  vision  might 
have  heen  imputed  to  some  peculiar  nervous  derangement  of  the 
system,  like  the  famous  spectral  illusions  that  haunted  the  Berlin 
Bookseller, — but  then  the  young  woman  was  of  a  hardy  consti- 
tution, and  in  perfect  health.  Finally,  the  Phantom  might  have 
been  set  down  as  a  mere  freak  of  fancy,  the  offspring  of  an  ex- 
cited imagination,  whereas  she  had  no  more  imagination  than  a 
cow.  Her  mind  was  essentially  common-place,  and  never  travel- 
led beyond  the  routine  duties  and  occurrences  of  her  every-day 
life.  Her  very  dreams,  which  she  sometimes  related,  were  re- 
marked as  being  particularly  prosaic  and  insipid  ;  the  wildest  of 
them  having  only  painted  a  swarm  of  overgrown  cockroaches,  in 
the  shop-drawer,  that  was  labelled  "  Powder  Blue."  Add  to  all 
this,  that  her  character  for  veracity  stood  high  in  her  native 
town  ;  and  on  the  whole  evidence  the  verdict  must  be  in  favour 
of  the  supernatural  appearance. 

"  "Well — I  will  never  believe  in  Ghosts  !" 

No  madam.  Not  in  this  cheerful  drawing-room,  whilst  the 
bright  sunshine  brings  out  in  such  vivid  colours  the  gorgeous  pat- 
tern of  the  Brussels  carpet — no,  nor  whilst  such  a  fresh  westerly 
air  blows  in  at  the  open  window,  and  sets  the  Columbines  a-danc- 
ing  in  that  China  vase.     But  suppose,  as  King  John  says,  that 

The  midnight  bell 
Did,  with  his  iron  tongue  and  brazen  mouth, 
Sound  one  unto  the  drowsy  race  of  night : 
If  this  same  were  a  churchyard,  where  we  stand — 

the  grass  damp — the  wind  at  east — the  night  pitch  dark — a 
strangely  ill  odour,  and  doubtful  whistlings  and  whisperings 
wafted  on  the  fitful  gust. 


l26  whimsicalitib8. 

■•  wvii.m.  ;— ' 

Why,  then,  madam,   instead  of  disbelieving  i 
would  be  ready,  r  Bright  and  the  chill  of  the 

air — 

'•  To  '1"  what,  -ir : — " 

To  swallow  the  first  Bpirits  thai  off 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  second  night,  at  the  same  hour,  the  same  Melodran 
••  domestic    inter*  »t"   was   repeal  ■  !,   excepl   thai    this   time   the 
maternal  Phantom  confronted  hex  daughter  >'n  the  landing-place 
at  the  top  of  the  Btairs.      Another  fainting-fit  was  the  i 

quence  ;  but  before  her  .-•  rted  her,  the  | rcreature  had 

time  to  ol  identical  writhings  and  twitchin 

distorted  mouth,  the  convulsive  stru  speak  which  had  so 

appalled  her,  whilst  her  departed  parent  was  still  in  the  flesh. 
Luckily,  the  gossips,  backed  by  two  or  three  she  skeptics,  had 
ventured  to  return  to  the  Haunted  House,  where  they  were 
Btartled  as  before  by  a  shrill  feminine  scream,  and  again  found 
Miss  Mullins  on  the  ground  in  a  Btate  of  insensibility.  The  fit, 
however,  was  as  fan  atable  as  the  former  one,  and  the  usual  strong 
measures  having  been  promptly  resorted  to,  she  again  became 
alive  to  external  impressions, — and  in  particular  that  a  pint  of 
aquafortis,  or  something  like  it,  was  going  down  her  throat  the 
wrong  way — that  her  little-finger  had  been  in  a  hand-vie. — her 
temples  had  been  scrubbed  with  sand  and  cayenne  pepper,  <.r 
some  other  such  stimulants,  and  the  tip  of  her  nose  had  been 
scorched  with  a  salamander  or  a  burning  feather.     A  conscious- 


THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST  127 

ness,  in  short,  that  she  was  still  in  this  lower  sphere,  instead  of 
the  realms  of  bliss. 

The  story  she  told  on  her  recovery  was  little  more  than  a 
second  edition  of  the  narrative  of  the  preceding  night.  The 
Ghost  had  appeared  to  her,  made  all  sorts  of  horrible  wry  mouths, 
and  after  several  vain  attempts  at  utterance,  all  ended  in  a  con- 
vulsive gasp,  had  suddenly  clasped  its  shadowy  hands  around 
its  throat,  and  then  clapped  and  pressed  them  on  its  palpitating 
bosom,  as  if  actually  choking  or  bursting  with  the  suppressed 
communication.  Of  the  nature  of  the  secret  she  did  not  offer  the 
slightest  conjecture ;  for  the  simple  reason  that  she  had  formed 
none.  In  all  her  days  she  had  never  attempted  successfully  to 
guess  at  the  commonest  riddle,  and  to  solve  such  an  enigma  as 
her  mother  had  left  behind  her  was,  therefore,  quite  out  of  the 
question.  The  gossips  were  less  diffident ;  their  Wonder  was  not 
of  the  Passive,  but  of  the  Active  kind,  which  goes  under  the 
alias  of  Curiosity.  Accordingly,  they  speculated  amongst  them- 
selves without  stmt  or  scruple,  on  the  matter  that  the  Spirit 
yearned  so  anxiously  to  reveal ; — for  instance,  that  it  related  to 
money,  to  mmder,  to  an  illegitimate  child,  to  adulterated  articles,  to 
a  forged  will,  to  a  favourite  spot  for  burial ;  nay,  that  it  concerned 
matters  of  public  interest,  and  the  highest  affairs  of  the  state,  one 
old  crone  expressing  her  decided  conviction  that  the  Ghost  had 
to  divulge  a  plot  against  the  life  of  the  Queen. 

To  this  excitement  as  to  the  Spectre  and  its  mystery,  the  con- 
duct of  the  Next  of  Kin  afforded  a  striking  contrast :  instead  of 
joining  in  the  conjectural  patchwork  of  the  gossips,  she  silently 
took  up  the  old  variegated  coverlet,  and  stitched,  and  sighed,  and 
stitched  on,  till  the  breaking  up  of  the  party  left  her  at  liberty 
to  go  to  bed. 


L28  WHIM8ICALITJE8, 

■•  And  did  Bhe  dream  again  of  the  Oh 

,   Miss;  butwith  this  difference;  that   the  pucl 
mouth  distinctly  pronounced   the  word  Mary,  and  then  so 
and  twisted  oul  a  few  more  sounds  or  syllables,  bul  in  a  gibberish 
as  unintelligible  as  the  chatter  of  a  monkey,  or  an  Irvingite  sen- 
tence of  the  Unknown  Tongue. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  third  night  came— the  third  midnight— and  with  it  the 
Apparition.  It  made  the  same  frightful  grimaces,  and,  Btrange 
to  relate,  contrived  to  pronounce  in  a  hollow  whisper  tin-  very 
word  which  it  had  uttered  in  M  dream.    Hut  the  jumble 

of  inarticulate  Bounds  was  wanting— the  jaws    gaped,  and   the 
■  visibly  struggled,  but  then-  was  a  dead,  yes,  literally  a 
dead  silei 

On  this  occasion,  how  daughter  «. I i « 1  not  faint  away ; 

she  bad  privately  taken  care  to  be  at  the  hour  of  twelve  in  the 
midst  of  her  female  friends,  and  her  Mother  appeared  to  her  in 
the  doorway  between  the  little  back-parlour  and  the  shop.  The 
Shadow  was  only  revealed  to  herself.  One  of  the  gossip>,  i: 
declared  afterwards  that  she  ha. I  Been  widow  Mulling,  "as  like  as 
a  likeness  cut  out  in  whit"  paper,  but  so  transparent  that  she 
could  look  right  through  her  body  at  the  chaney  Jemmy  Jessam) 
on  the  mantel-piece." 

But  her  story,  though  accepted  as  a  true  bill  by  nine-tenth 
tiic  inhabitants  of  Grimsby,  was  not  honoured  by  any  one  who 
was  present  that  night  in  the  little  back-parlour.     The  two 
ing  green  eyes  of  Miss  Mullins  had  plainly  been  turned,  not  on 
the  fire-place,  but  towards  the  door,  and  her  two  bony  foiv-fin^ers 


THE   GRIMSBY  GHOST.  129 

had  wildly  pointed  in  the  same  direction.  Nevertheless,  the 
more  positive  the  contradiction,  the  more  obstinately  the  story- 
teller persevered  in  her  statement,  still  adding  to  its  circumstanti- 
alities,  till  in  process  of  time  she  affirmed  that  she  had  not  only 
seen  the  Ghost,  but  that  she  knew  its  secret ;  namely,  that  the 
undertaker  and  his  man  had  plotted  between  them  to  embezzle 
the  body,  and  to  send  it  up  in  a  crate,  marked  "  Chaney — this 
side  upwards,"  to  Mr.  Guy  in  the  Borough. 


CHAPTER  X. 

On  the  fourth  uight  the  Ghost  appeared  at  the  usual  time, 
with  its  usual  demeanour, — but  at  the  shop  instead  of  the  par- 
lour-door, close  to  the  bundle  of  new  mops. 

On  the  fifth,  behind  the  counter,  near  the  till. 

On  the  sixth  night,  again  behind  the  counter,  but  at  the  other 
end  of  it  beside  the  great  scales. 

On  the  seventh  night  which  closed  the  day  of  the  funeral,  in 
the  little  back-parlour.  It  had  been  hoped  and  predicted,  that 
after  the  interment,  the  Spirit  would  cease  to  walk — whereas  at 
midnight,  it  re-appeared,  as  aforesaid,  in  the  room  behind  the 
shop,  between  the  table  and  the  window. 

On  the  eighth  night  it  became  visible  again  at  the  old  desk 

between  the  great  black  coffee-mill  and  the  herring  barrel.     In 

the  opinion  of  Miss  Mullins,  the  Spectre  had  likewise  crossed 

her  path  sundry  times  in  the  course  of  the  day — at  least  she  had 

noticed  a  sort  of  film  or  haze  that  interposed  itself  before  sundry 

objects — for    instance,  the    great   stone-bottle  of   vinegar  in  the 

shop  and  the  framed  print  of  "  the  Witch  of  Endor  calling  up 

Samuel,"  in  the  back  room.     On  all  these  occasions  the  Phan- 
6* 


130  WHIMSICALITIES. 

twin  had  exhibited  the  Mine  argent  impulse  to  Bpeak,  with  the 
Bame  spasmodic  action  of  the  features,  and  if  possible,  a  ^t ill 
more  intense  expression  of  anxiety  and  anguish.  The  despairing 
gestures  and  in.  >t !■  •!)■>  of  the  visionary  arms  and  hands  were  more 
and  in. it-.-  vehement.  It  was  a  tragic  pantomime,  t>>  have  driven 
any  other  spectator  raving  mad  ! 

Even  tin-  dull  phlegmatic  nature  of  Mi  b  Mullins  at  last  b 
to  be  Btirred  and  excited  by  the  reiteration  of  so  awful  a 

:  and  her  curiosity,  slowly  bul  surely,  became  interested  in 
the  undivulged  secret  which  could  thus  keep  a  disembodied  spirit 
from  it^  appointed  resting-place,  the    weighty  necessity  which 
could  alone  recall  a  departed  soul  to  earth,  after  it  had  <>n. 
perienced  the  deep  calm,  and  qniet  of  the  grave.     The 
row  of  ill.-  mourner  h  fretting—- she 

could  no  Longer  eat,  drink,  or  sleep,  or  Bit  still, — the  patchwork 
quilt  was  thrust  away  in  a  corner,  and  as  t.>  the  Bhop,  th>'  little 
dirty  boy,  and  the  little  ragged  girl  were  <.Kli._--.-d  t"  repeal  their 
retail  orders  thrice  over  t.>  the  bewildered  creature  behind  the 
counter,  who  even  then  was  apl  to  go  t-.  the  wrong  box,  can,  or 
canniater, — to  Berve  them  out  train-oil  instead  of  treacle,  and  soft- 
soap  in  lieu  of  Dorset  butter, 

Whal   wonder  a  rumour  went  throug  msby  that  she 

was  crazy}  But  instead  of  going  out  of  her  mind,  she  had 
rather  rum.,  into  it,  and  fur  the  first  strange  time  was  ex<  i 
her  untrained  faculties,  on  one  of  the  most  perplexing  mysteries 
that  had  ever  puzzled  a  human  brain.  No  marvel,  then,  that  she 
gave  change  twice  over  for  the  same  sixpence,  and  sent  little 
Sniggers  home  with  a  bar  of  soap  instead  of  a  stick  of  brim- 
stone. In  fact,  betw<  en  1;  r  own  absence  of  mind,  and  the  pre- 
sence of  mind  of  her  customers,  she  sold  so  many  good  barj 


THE   GRIMSBY  GHOST.  131 

that  the  purchasers  began  to  wish  that  a  Deaf  and  Dumb  Ghost 
would  haunt  every  shop  in  the  town  ! 


CHAPTER  XL 

According  to  the  confession  of  our  first  and  last  practitioners, 
the  testimony  of  medical  works,  and  the  fatal  results  of  most 
cases  of  Trismus,  there  is  no  surgical  operation  on  the  human 
subject  so  difficult  as  the  picking  of  a  Locked  Jaw.  No  skeleton 
key  has  yet  been  invented  by  our  body-smiths  that  will  open  the 
mouth  thus  spasmodically  closed.  The  organ  is  in  what  the 
Americans  call  an  everlasting-fix — the  poor  man  is  booked — and 
you  may  at  once  proceed  to  put  up  the  rest  of  his  shutters. 

This  difficulty,  however,  only  occurs  in  respect  to  the  physical 
frame.  For  a  spiritual  lock-jaw  there  is  a  specific  mode  of  treat- 
ment, which,  according  to  tradition,  has  generally  proved  success- 
ful in  overcoming  the  peculiar  Trismus  to  which  all  Apparitions 
are  subject,  and  which  has  thus  enabled  them  to  break  that  me- 
lancholy silence,  which  must  otherwise  have  prevailed  in  their 
intercourse  with  the  living.  The  modus  operandi  is  extremely 
simple,  and  based  on  an  old-fashioned  rule,  to  which,  for  some 
obscure  reason,  ghosts  as  well  as  good  little  boys  seem  bound  to 
adhere,  i.  e.,  not  to  speak  till  they  are  spoken  to.  It  is  only  ne- 
cessary, t  erefore,  if  you  wish  to  draw  out  a  dumb  Spirit,  to 
utter  the  first  word. 

Strange  to  say,  this  easy  and  ancient  prescription  never  occurred 
to  either  Miss  Mullins  or  her  gossips  till  the  ninth  day,  when  Mrs. 
Humphreys,  happening  to  stumble  on  the  old  rule  in  her  son's 
spelling-book,  at  the  same  time  hit  on  the  true  cause  of  the  silence 
of  the  "  Mysterious  Mother."      It  was  immediately  determined 


L32  WHIMSICALITIES 

that  the  same  eight,  or  al  least  the  very  tir>t  time  the  Spii 
appeared,  it  .-liould  be  Bpoken  to;  the  very  terms  of  the  filial 
address,  like  those  of  a  Royal  Speech,  b  ing  agreed  on  b 
band,  at  the  Bame  council.     Whether  the  orator,  the  appointed 
hour  and  the  expected  auditor  considered,  would  rememb 

,  admitted  doubt:  however  it  was  learned, 

by  rote,  and  having  fortified  herself  wil  of  cordial  and 

ackers  having  fortified  themselves  with  two,  the  trembling 
Mary  awaited  the  awful  interview,  conning  over  to  herself  the 
concerted  formula,  which  to  assist  ber  memory  had  been  com- 
mitted to  paper. 

"  Muther,  if  so  be  you  ar  my  muther,  and  as  Buch  being  B] 
to,  sj  ir  now  and  ever  after  hold  your  Tui 


CHAPTER  Ml. 

One — Two — Three — Four — Fiv< — Six — Seven — Eight — 
—Ten— Eleven— TWEL"\  E! 

The  Hour  was  come  and  the  Clhost.    True  to  the  Last  >tr. .k.- 
of  the  clock,  it  aj  pe  a  figure  projected  from  a  magic  lan- 

t  rn.  "ii  the  curtain  at  the  foot  of  the  bed — for,  through  certain 
private  reasons  of  her  own.  Miss  Muilins  had  resolved  nol  only  to 
Lone,  but  t  ■  r — as  the  French  ladies  do — in 

her  chambre  a  coucher — Perhaps  she  did  not  care  that  any  <  ar 
but  her.  own  should  receive  a  disclosure  which  might  involve 
matters  of  the  most  delicate  nature:  a  secret,  that  might  per- 
chance affect  the  reputation  of  her  late  parent,  or  her  own 
position.  However,  it  was  in  solitude  and  from  her  pillow,  that 
with  starting  eyeballs,  and  outstretched  arms,  she  gazed  for  the 
ninth  time  on  the  silent  Phantom,  which  had  assumed  a  list 


THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  133 

expression,  and  an  expectant  attitude,  as  if  it  had  been  invisibly 
present  at  the  recent  debate,  and  had  overheard  the  composition 
of  the  projected  speech.  But  that  speech  was  never  to  be  spoken. 
In  vain  poor  Mary  tried  to  give  it  utterance ;  it  seemed  to  stick, 
like  an  apothecary's  powder,  in  her  throat — to  her  fauces,  her  pa- 
late, her  tongue,  and  her  teeth,  so  that  she  could  not  get  it  out 
of  her  mouth. 

The  Ghost  made  a  sign  of  impatience. 

Poor  Mary  gasped. 

The  Spirit  frowned  and  apparently  stamped  with  its  foot. 

Poor  Mary  made  another  violent  effort  to  speak,  but  only  gave 
a  sort  of  tremulous  croak. 

The  features  of  the  Phantom  again  began  to  work — the  mus- 
cles about  the  mouth  quivered  and  twitched. 

Poor  Mary's  did  the  same. 

The  whole  face  of  the  Apparition  was  drawn  and  puckered  by 
a  spasmodic  paroxysm,  and  poor  Mary  felt  that  she  was  imitating 
the  contortions,  and  even  that  .hideous  grin,  the  risus  sardonicus, 
which  had  inspired  her  with  such  horror. 

At  last  with  infinite  difficulty,  she  contrived  by  a  desperate 
effort  to  utter  a  short  ejaculation — but  brief  as  it  was  it  sufficed 
to  break  the  spell. 

The  Ghost,  as  if  it  had  only  awaited  the  blessed  sound  of-  one 
single  syllable  from  the  human  voice,  to  release  its  own  vocal 
organs  from  their  mysterious  thraldom,  instantly  spoke. 

But  the  words  -are  worthy  of  a  separate  chapter. 


134 


WHIMSICALITIES 


CHAPTER  Mil. 

uJ£ary/  it  arnU  booked — but  there's  tuppence  for  suvl 
•  it  1/  u  mlii  r  nine  I n 


— "It  is  much  to  the  Discredit  of  Ghosts," — says  Johannes  I -ui - 
tennis,  in  his  "Treat  seof  Apparitions," — "that  they  doe  so  commonly  re- 
visit the  Earth  on  such  trivial  Errands  as  would  hardly  justify  a  Journey 
from  London  to  fork,  mnoh  leas  from  one  World  to  another.  Grave  and 
weighty  ought  to  1»'  the  Matter  that  can  awaken  a  Spirit  from  the  deep 
Slumbers  of  the  Tomb  :  solemn  and  potent  must  he  the  Spell,  to  induce  the 
liberated  Soul,  divorced  with  such  mortal  Agony  from  its  human  Clothing, 
to  put  on  merely  such  flimsy  Atoms,  as  may  render  it  visible  to  the  Eye  of 
Flesh.  For  neither  willingly  ii-t  wantonly  doth  the  Spirit  of  a  .Man  forsake 
its  sabterrane  Dwelling,  in  the  awful  Question  by  the  Ghost 

of  Samuel  to  the  Witch  of  Bndor— "  W  I  on  disquieted  M«-, 


EPIGRAM.  135 

and  called  Me  up? "  And  yet,  forsooth,  a  walking  Phantom  shall  break  the 
Bonds  of  Death,  and  perchance  the  Bonds  of  Hell  to  boot,  to  go  on  a  Mes- 
sage, which  concerns  but  an  Individual,  and  not  a  great  one  either,  or  at 
most  a  Family,  nor  yet  one  of  Note, — for  Example,  to  disclose  the  lurking 
Place  of  a  lost  Will,  or  of  a  Pot  of  Money  in  Dame  Perkins  her  back  Yard, 
-  -Whereas  such  a  Supernatural  Intelligencer  hath  seldom  been  vouchsafed 
to  reveal  a  State  Plot — to  prevent  a  Royal  Murther,  or  avert  the  Shipwrack 
of  an  whole  Empire.  Wherefore,  I  conclude,  that  many  or  most  Ghost 
Stories  have  had  their  rise  in  the  Self-Conceit  of  vain  ignorant  People,  or 
the  Arrogance  of  great  Families,  who  take  Pride  in  the  Belief,  that  their 
mundane  Affairs  are  of  so  important  a  Pitch,  as  to  perturb  departed  Souls, 
even  amidst  the  Pains  of  Purgatory,  or  the  Pleasures  of  Paradise." 


(Epigram 


ON    THE    ART-UNIONS. 

That  Picture-Raffles  will  conduce  to  nourish 
Design,  or  cause  good  Colouring  to  flourish, 
Admits  of  logic-chopping  and  wise  sawing, 
But  surely  Lotteries  encourage  Drawing ! 


L36 


3   'ilMiirk    3 n li . 


BOUKCE     OF     THE     MUCH. 


No  <l«>ubt  the  pleasure  is  as  great, 
<  >f  being  cheat.  .1  as  to  oheat 

II'  moras. 


The  history  of  human-kind  to  trace 

Since  Eve — the  first  of  dopes — our  doom  unriddled, 
A  certain  portion  of  the  human  race  % 

Has  certainly  a  taste  for  being  diddled. 

Witness  the  famous  Mississippi  dreams  ! 

A  rage  that  time  seems  only  to  redouble — 
The  Banks,  Joint-Stocks,  and  all  the  flimsy  schemes, 

For  rolling  in  Pactolian  streams, 
That  cost  our  modern  rocnies  so  little  trouble. 


A  BLACK  JOB  137 

No  matter  what, — to  pasture  cows  on  stubble, 

To  twist  sea-sand  into  a  solid  rope, 
To  make  French  bricks  and  fancy  bread  of  rubble, 

Or  light  with  gas  the  whole  celestial  cope — 
Only  propose  to  blow  a  bubble, 

And  Lord !  what  hundreds  will  subscribe  for  soap ! 

Soap  ! — it  reminds  me  of  a  little  tale, 

Tho'  not  a  pig's,  the  hawbuck's  glory, 
When  rustic  games  and  merriment  prevail — 

But  here's  my  story : 
Once  on  a  time — no  matter  when — 
A  knot  of  very  charitable  men 
Set  up  a  Philanthropical  Society, 
Professing  on  a  certain  plan, 
To  benefit  the  race  of  man, 
And  in  particular  that  dark  variety 
Which  some  suppose  inferior — as  in  vermin, 

The  sable  is  to  ermine, 
As  smut  to  flour,  as  coal  to  alabaster, 

As  crows  to  swans,  as  soot  to  driven  snow, 
As  blacking,  or  as  ink  to  "  milk  below," 
Or  yet  a  better  simile  to  show, 
As  ragman's  dolls  to  images  in  plaster  ! 

However,  as  is  usual  in  our  city, 

They  had  a  sort  of  managing  Committee, 

A  board  of  grave  responsible  Directors — 
A  Secretary,  good  at  pen  and  ink — 
A  Treasurer,  of  course,  to  keep  the  chink, 

And  quite  an  army  of  Collectors  ! 
Not  merely  male,  but  female  duns, 

Young,  old,  and  middle-aged — of  all  degrees — 
With  many  of  those  persevering  ones, 

Who  mite  by  mite  would  beg  a  cheese ! 

And  what  might  be  their  aim  ? 

To  rescue  Afric's  sable  sons  from  fetters — 
To  save  their  bodies  from  the  burning  shame 

Of  branding  with  hot  letters — 


138  whimsicalities. 

Their  shoulders  from  the  cowhide's  bloody  strokes, 
Their  Decks  from  iron  \  okes  .' 

To  end  or  mitigate  the  ills  of  slavery, 
The  Planter's  avarice,  the  Driver's  knavery  .' 
To  school  the  heathen  Negroes  and  enlighten 
To  polish  up  and  brighten  'em, 

And  make  them  worthy  of  eternal  bliss? 
Why,  no — the  simple  end  and  aim  was  this — 
Reading  a  well-known  proverb  much  amiss — 
To  wash  and  whiten  'em! 

They  look'd  so  ugly  in  their  sable  hides  ; 

So  dark,  so  dingy,  like  a  grubby  lot 
Of  sooty  sweeps,  or  collier-,  and  besides, 

However  the  poor  elves 

Might  wash  themsel 
Nobody  knew  if  they  were  clean  or  not  — 

On  Nature's  fairness  they  were  quite  a  blot! 
Not  to  forget  more  Berious  complaints 

That  even  while  they  joined  in  pious  hymn, 

So  black  they  were  and  grim, 

In  fare  and   limb, 
They  look'd  like  Devils,  though  they  sang  like  Saints! 

The  thing  was  undeniable! 
They  wanted  washing!  not  that  slight  ablution 

To  which  the  skin  of  the  White  Man  is  liable, 
Merely  removing  transient  pollution — 

But  good,  hard,  honest,  energetic  rubbing 
And  scrubbing, 
Sousing  each  sooty  frame  from  heels  to  head 

With  stiff,  strong,  saponaceous  lather, 

And  pails  of  water — hottish  rather, 
But  not  so  boiling  as  to  turn  'em  red! 

So  spoke  the  philanthropic  man 
Who  laid,  and  hateb'd,  and  nursed  the  plan — 
And  oh !  to  view  its  glorious  consummation  ! 
The  brooms  and  mops, 
The  tubs  and  slops, 
The  baths  and  brushes  in  full  operation  ! 


A  BLACK  JOB.  139 

To  see  each  Crow,  or  Jim,  or  John, 
Go  in  a  raven  and  come  out  a  swan  ! 

While  fair  as  Cavendishes,  Vanes,  and  Russels, 
Black  Venus  rises  from  the  soapy  surge, 
And  all  the  little  Niggerlings  emerge 

As  lily-white  as  mussels. 

Sweet  was  the  vision — but  alas  ! 

However  in  prospectus  bright  and  sunny, 
To  bring  such  "visionary  scenes  to  pass 

One  thing  was  requisite,  and  that  was — money  ! 
Money,  that  pays  the  laundress  aDd  her  bills, 
For  socks  and  collars,  shirts  and  frills, 
Cravats  and  kerchiefs — money,  without  which 

The  negroes  must  remain  as  dark  as  pitch  ; 

A  thing  to  make  all  Christians  sad  and  shivery, 
To  think  of  millions  of  immortal  souls 
Dwelling  in  bodies  black  as  coals, 

And  living — so  to  speak — in  Satan's  livery  ! 

Money — the  root  of  evil, — dross,  and  stuff !   ' 

But  oh !  how  happy  ought  the  rich  to  feel, 
Whose  means  enabled  them  to  give  enough 

To  blanch  an  African  from  head  to  heel! 

How  blessed — yea  thrice  blessed — to  subscribe 

Enough  to  scour  a  tribe ! 
° 
While  he  whose  fortune  was  at  best  a  brittle  one, 

Although  he  gave  but  pence,  how  sweet  to  know, 

He  helped  to  bleach  a  Hottentot's  great  toe, 

Or  little  one ! 

Moved  by  this  logic,  or  appall'd, 

To  persons  of  a  certain  turn  so  proper, 
The  money  came  when  call'd, 

In  silver,  gold,  and  copper, 
Presents  from  "  Friends  to  blacks,"  or  foes  to  whites, 
"  Trifles,"  and  "  offerings,"  and  "  widow's  mites," 
Plump  legacies,  and  yearly  benefactions, 
With  other  gifts 
And  charitable  lifts, 
Printed  in  lists  and  quarterly  transactions. 


140  WHIMSICALITIES. 

As  thus— Elislia  Brettel, 
An  iron  kettle. 
The  Dowager  Lady  Scannel, 
A  piece  of  flannel. 
Rebecca  Pope, 
A  bar  of  soap. 
The  Blisses  1  towels, 
Half-a-dozen  towels. 
The  Master  Rush's, 
Two  scrubbing-brushes. 
.Mr.  T.  Groom, 
A  stable  broom, 
And  Mrs.  Grubb, 
A  tub. 

Great  were  the  sums  collected  ! 
And  great  results  in  consequence  expected. 
But  somehow,  in  the  teeth  of  all  endeavour, 

According  to  reports 

At  yearly  court--. 
The  blacks,  cont'onud  them !  were  as  black  as  ever ! 

Yes  !  spite  of  all  the  water  sous'd  aloft, 
Soap,  plain  and  mottled,  hard  and  soft, 
Soda  and  pearl^h,  huckaback  and  sand, 
Brooms,  brushes,  palm  of  hand, 
And  scourers  in  the  office,  strong  and  clever, 

In  spite  of  all  the  tubbing,  rubbing,  scrubbing, 

The  routing  and  the  grubbing, 
The  blacks,  confound  them,  were  as  black  as  ever ! 

In  fact,  in  his  perennial  speech, 

The  Chairman  ownd  the  niggers  did  not  bleach, 

As  he  had  hoped, 

From  being  washed  and  soaped, 
A  circumstance  he  named  with  grief  and  pity; 
But  still  he  had  the  happiness  to  say, 

For  self  and  the  Committee, 
By  persevering  in  the  present  way, 


A  BLACK  JOB.  141 

And  scrubbing  at  the  Blacks  from  day  to  day, 
Although  he  could  not  promise  perfect  white, 
From  certain  symptoms  that  had  come  to  light, 

He  hoped  in  time  to  get  them  gray  ! 

Lull'd  by  this  vague  assurance, 

The  friends  and  patrons  of  the  sable  tribe 
Continued  to  subscribe, 
And  waited,  waited  on  with  much  endurance — 
Many  a  frugal  sister,  thrifty  daughter — 
Many  a  stinted  widow,  pinching  mother — 
With  income  by  the  tax  made  somewhat  shorter, 
Still  paid  implicitly  her  crown  per  quarter, 
Only  to  hear  as  ev'ry  year  came  round, 
That  Mr.  Treasurer  had  spent  her  pound  ; 
And  as  she  loved  her  sable  brother, 
That  Mr.  Treasurer  must  have  another  ! 

But,  spite  of  pounds  or  guineas, 
Instead  of  giving  any  hint 
Of  turning  to  a  neutral  tint, 
The  plaguy  negroes  and  their  piccaninnies 
Were  still  the  colour  of  the  bird  that  caws — 
Only  some  very  aged  souls 
Showing  a  little  gray  upon  their  polls, 
Like  daws ! 

However,  nothing  dashed 
By  such  repeated  failures,  or  abash'd, 
The  Court  still  met ; — the  Chairman  and  Directors, 
The  Secretary,  good  at  pen  and  ink, 
The  worthy  Treasurer,  who  kept  the  chink, 
And  all  the  cash  collectors  ; 
With  hundreds  of  that  class,  so  kindly  credulous, 
Without  whose  help,  no  charlatan  alive, 
Or  Bubble  Company  could  hope  to  thrive, 
Or  busy  Chevalier,  however  sedulous — 
Those  good  and  easy  innocents  in  fact, 

Who  willingly  received  chaff  for  corn, 
As  pointed  out  by  Butler's  tact, 
Still  find  a  secret  pleasure  in  the  act 
Of  beinir  pluck'd  and  shorn  ! 


142  WHIMSICALITIES. 

However,  in  long  hundreds  there  they  were, 

Thronging  the  hot,  and  close,  and  dusty  court, 
To  hear  once  more  addresses  from  the  Chair, 

And  regular  Report 
Alas!  concluding  in  the  usual  strain, 

That  what  with  everlasting  wear  and  tear, 

The  scrubbing  brushes  hadn't  got  a  hair — 
The  brooms — mere  stumps — would  never  serve  again — 
The  soap  was  gone,  the  flannels  all  in  shreds, 

The  towels  worn  to  threads, 
The  tubs  and  pails  too  shattered  to  be  mended — 

And  what  was  added  with  a  deal  of  pain, 

But  as  accounts  correctly  would  explain, 
Tho'  thirty  thousand  pounds  had  been  expended — 

The  Blackamoors  had  still  been  washed  iu  vain! 

"In  fact,  the  negroes  were  as  black  as  ink, 

Yet,  still  as  the  Committee  dared  to  think, 

And  hoped  the  proposition  was  not  rash, 

A  rather  free  expenditure  of  cash — " 

But  ere  the  prospect  could  be  made  more  sunny — 

Up  jump'd  a  little,  lemon  coloured  man, 

And  with  an  eager  stammer,  thus  began, 
In  angry  earnest,  though  it  sounded  funny: 
"  What !     More  subscriptions  !     No — no — no — not  I ! 
You  have  had  time — time — time  enough  to  try! 
They  won't  come  white!  then  why — why — why — wyh— why, 
More  money  .''' 

"Why!"  said  the  Chairman,  with  an  accent  bland, 

And  gentle  waving  of  his  dexter  hand, 

"  Why  must  wo  have  more  dross,  and  dirt,  and  dust, 

More  filthy  lncre,  in  a  word,  more  gold  ? — 

The  why,  sir,  very  easily  is  told, 
Because  Humanity  declares  we  must ! 
We've  scrubb'd  the  negroes  till  we've  neariy  bttUuj  '»ra 
And  finding  that  we  cannot  wash  them  white. 
But  still  their  nigritude  offends  th«  sighi 
We  mean  to  gild  'em .' " 


143 


ffltz.  <0nriittn. 


A     HORTICULTURAL     ROMANCE, 


CHAPTER  I. 

What  sweet  thoughts  she  thinks 

Of  violets  and  pinks.  L.  Hunt. 

Each  flow'r  of  tender  stalk  whose  head,  tho'  gay 
Carnation,  purple,  azure,  or  speck'd  with  gold, 
Hung  drooping  unsustain'd,  them  she  upstays. 

Milton. 

How  does  my  lady's  garden  grow  ?  Old  Ballad. 

Her  knots  disorder'd,  and  her  wholesome  herbs 
Swarming  with  caterpillars.  Richard  II. 

I  love  a  Garden ! 

"  And  so  do  I,  and  I,  and  I,"  exclaim  in  chorus  all  the  he  and 
she  Fellows  of  the  Horticultural  Society. 

"  And  I,"  whispers  the  philosophical  Ghost  of  Lord  Bacon. 

"  And  I,"  sings  the  poetical  Spirit  of  Andrew  Marvel. 

"  Et  moi  aussi,"  chimes  in  the  Shade  of  Delille. 

"  And  I,"  says  the  Spectre  of  Sir  William  Temple,  echoed  by 
Pope,  and  Darwin,  and  a  host  of  the  English  Poets,  the  sonorous 
voice  of  Milton  resounding  above  them  all. 

"  And  I,"  murmurs  the  apparition  of  Boccaccio. 

"  And  I,  and  I,"  sob  two  Invisibles,  remembering  Eden. 

"  And  I,"  shouts  Mr.  George  Robins,  thinking  of  Covent 
Garden. 

"  And  I,"  says  Mr.  Simpson — formerly  of  Vauxhall. 


144  WHIMSICALITIES. 

"And  I,"  sing  ten  thousand  female  voices,  all  in  unison,  as  if 
drilled  by  Ilullali, — but  really,  thinking  in  concert  of  the  Gardens 
of  Gul. 

[What  a  string  I  have  touched  !] 

"We  all  love  a  Garden!"  Bhout  millions  of  human  voices, 
male,  female,  and  juvenile,  bass,  tenor,  and  treble.  From  the 
East,  the  West,  the  North,  and  the  South,  the  universal  burden 
swells  on  the  wind,  as  if  declaring  in  a  roll  of  thunder  that  we 
all  love  a  Garden. 

But  no — one  solitary  voice — thai  of  Hamlet's  Ghostly  Father, 
exclaims  in  a  sepulchral  tone,  "  I  don't !" 

No  matter — we  are  all  but  unanimous ;  and  so,  Gentle 
Readers,  I  will  at  once  introduce  to  you  my  Heroine — a  woman 
after  your  own  hearts — for  Bhe  is  a  Gardiner  byname  and  a 
Gardiner  by  nature. 


CHAPTER  II. 

At  Number  Nine,  Paradise  Place,  so  called  probably  because 
every  house  stands  in  the  middle  of  a  little  garden,  lives  Mrs. 
Gardiner.  I  will  not  describe  her,  for  looking  through  the  green 
rails  in  front  of  her  premises,  or  over  the  dwarf  wall  at  the  back, 
you  may  see  her  any  day,  in  an  old  poke  bonnet,  expanded  into 
a  gipsy-hat,  and  a  pair  of  man's  gloves,  tea-green  at  top,  but 
mouldy-brown  in  the  fingers,  raking,  digging,  hoeing,  rolling, 
trowelling,  pruning,  nailing,  watering,  or  otherwise  employed  in 
her  horticultural  and  floricultural  pursuits.  Perhaps,  as  a  neigh- 
bour, or  acquaintance,  you  have  already  seen  her,  or  conversed 
with  her,  over  the  wooden  or  brick-fence,  and  have  learned  in 
answer  to   your    kind  inquiries  about  her  health,  that  she  was 


MRS.  GARDINER.  145 

pretty  well,  only  sadly  in  want  of  rain,  or  quite  charming,  but 
almost  eaten  up  by  vermin.  For  Mrs.  Gardiner  speaks  the  true 
"  Language  of  Flowers,"  not  using  their  buds  and  blossoms  as 
symbols  of  her  own  passions  and  sentiments,  according  to  the 
Greek  fashion,  but  lending  words  to  the  wants  and  affections  of 
her  plants.  Thus,  when  she  says  that  she  is  "  dreadful  dry,"  and 
longs  for  a  good  soaking,  it  refers  not  to  a  defect  of  moisture  in 
her  own  clay,  but  to  the  parched  condition  of  the  soil  in  her  par- 
terres :  or  if  she  wishes  for  a  regular  smoking,  it  is  not  from  any 
unfeminine  partiality  to  tobacco,  but  in  behalf  of  her  blighted 
geraniums.  In  like  manner  she  sometimes  confesses  herself  a 
little  backward,  without  allusion  to  any  particular  branch,  or 
twin-,  of  her  education,  or  admits  herself  to  be  rather  forward, 
quite  irrelevantly  to  her  behavior  with  the  other  sex.  Without  this 
key  her  expressions  would  often  be  unintelligible  to  the  hearer, 
and  sometimes  indecorous,  as  when  she  told  her  neighbour,  the 
bachelor  at  Number  Eight,  a  propos  of  a  plum-tree,  that  "  she 
was  growing  quite  wild,  and  should  come  some  day  over  his 
wall."  Others  again,  unaware  of  her  peculiar  phraseology,  would 
give  her  credit,  or  discredit,  for  an  undue  share  of  female  vanity, 
as  well  as  the  most  extraordinary  notions  of  personal  beauty. 

"  Well,"  she  said  one  day,  "  what  do  you  think  of  Mrs. 
Mapleson  ?"  meaning  that  lady's  hydrangea.  "  Her  head's  the 
biggest — but  I  look  the  bluest." 

In  a  similar  style  she  delivered  herself  as  to  certain  other  sub- 
jects of  the  rivalry  that  is  universal  amongst  the  suburban  vota- 
ries of  Flora :  converting  common  blowing  and  growing  sub- 
stantives into  horticultural  verbs,  as  thus  : 

"  Miss  Sharp  crocussed  before  me — but  I  snow-dropped  sooner 
than  any  one  in  the  Row." 


146  WHIMSICALITIES. 

But  this  identification  of  herself  with  the  objects  of  her  love 
was  not  confined  to  her  plants.  It  extended  to  every  thing  that 
was  connected  with  her  hobby — her  gardening  implements,  her 
garden-rails,  and  her  garden-wall.  For  example,  Bhe  complained 
once  that  she  could  not  rake,  she  had  lost  so  many  of  her  teeth 
— Bhe  told  the  carpenter  the  boys  climbed  over  her  so,  that  he 
should  stick  her  all  over  tenter-hooks — and  sent  word  to  her 
landlord,  a  builder,  th-  snails  bred  so  between  her  bricks,  that  he 
must  positively  come  and  new  point  her. 

"  Phoo  !  phoo  !"  exclaims  an  incredulous  Gentle  Reader — 
"  she  is  all  a  phantom  I" 

Quite  the  reverse,  sir.  She  is  as  real  and  as  substantial  as  Mrs. 
Baines.  Ask  Mr.  Cherry,  the  newsman,  or  his  boy,  John  Loder, 
either  of  whom  will  tell  you — on  oath  if  you  require  it — that  he 
serves  her  every  Saturday  with  the  Gardiner's  Chronicle. 


CHAPTER  III. 

My  first  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Gardiner  was  formed  when 
she  was  "  in  populous  city  pent,"  and  resided  in  a  street  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  city.  In  fact,  in  Bucklersbury.  But  even 
there  her  future  bent  developed  itself  as  far  as  her  limited  ways 
and  means  permitted.  On  the  leads  over  the  back  warehouse, 
she  had  what  she  delighted  to  call  shrubbery  :  viz. — 

A  Persian  Lilac  in  a  tea-chest, 

A  Guelder  Rose  in  a  washing-tub, 

A  Laurustinus  in  a  butter -tub, 

A  Monthly  Rose  in  a  Portugal  grape-jar, 

and  about  a  score  of  geraniums,  fuchsias,  and  similar  plants  in 
pots.     But  besides  shrubs  and  flowers,  she  cultivated  a  few  vege- 


MRS.  GARDINER.  147 

tables — that  is  to  say,  slie  grew  her  own  sallads  of  "  mustard  and 
crest"  in  a  brown  pan  ;  and  in  sundry  crockery  vessels  that  would 
hold  earth,  but  not  water,  she  reared  some  half  dozen  of  Scarlet 
Runners,  which  in  the  proper  season,  you  might  see  climbing  up 
a  series  of  string  ladders,  against  the  back  of  the  house,  as  if  to 
elope  with  the  Mignionette  from  its  box  in  the  second-floor 
window.  Then  indoors,  on  her  mantel-shelf,  she  had  hya- 
cinths and  other  bulbs  in  glasses — and  from  a  hook  in  the  ceiling, 
in  lieu  of  a  chandelier,  there  was  suspended  a  wicker-basket, 
containing  a  white  biscuitware  garden-pot,  with  one  of  those  pen- 
dant plants,  which  as  she  described  their  habits  and  sustenance, 
are  "  fond  of  hanging  themselves,  and  living  on  hare."  But  these 
experiments  rather  tantalized  than  satisfied  her  passion.  Ware- 
house-leads, she  confessed,  made,  but  indifferent  gardens  or 
shrubberies,  whilst  the  London  smoke  was  fatal  to  the  complexion 
of  her  mop  rose  and  the  fragrance  of  her  southernwood,  or  in  her 
own  words, 

"  I  blow  dingy — and  my  old  man  smells  sutty." 
Once,  indeed,  she  pictured  to  me  her  beau  ideal  of  "  a  little 
Paradise,"  the  main  features  of  which  I  forget,  except  that  with 
reference  to  a  cottage  ornee,  she  was  to  have  "a  jessamy  in  front, 
and  a  creeper  up  her  back."  As  to  the  garden,  it  was  to  have 
walks,  and  a  lawn  of  course,  with  plenty  of  rich  loam,  that  she 
might  lay  herself  out  in  squares,  and  ovals,  and  diamonds — butter- 
tubs  and  tea-chests  were  very  well  for  town,  but  she  longed  for 
elbow-room,  and  earth  to  dig,  to  rake,  to  hoe,  and  trowel  up, — in 
short,  she  declared,  if  she  Avas  her  own  missis,  she  would  not  sleep 
another  night  before  she  had  a  bed  of  her  own — not  with  any 
reference  to  her  connubial  partner,  but  she  longed,  she  did,  for  a 
bit  of  ground,  she  did  not  care  how  small.      A  wish  that  her 


148  WHIMSICALITIES. 

husband  at  last  gratified  by  taking  a  bit  of  ground,  he  did  not 
care  how  -mall,  in  Bunhill  Fields. 

The  widow,  selling  off  the  town  house,  immediately  retired 
to  a  villa  in  the  country,  and  1  had  lost  Bighl  of  her  for  some 
months  when  one  May  morning  taking  a  walk  in  the  Buburbs, 
whilst  passing  in  front  of  Number  Nine,  Paradise  Place,  I  over- 
heard a  rather  harsh  voice  exclaiming,  as  it'  in  expostulation  with 
a  refractory  donkey — 
"Come  up!     Why  don't  you  come  up  ." 

It  was  Mrs.  Gardiner,  reproaching  the  tardiness  of  her  b K 

I  immediately  accosted  her,  bul  as  she  did  not  recognise  me, 
det  srmined  to  preserve  my  incognito,  till  I  had  drawn  her  out  a 
little  to  exhibit  her  hobby. 
"Rather  a  late  spring,  ma'am  '.', 

"Werry,  sir, — werry  much  bo  indeed.      Lord  knows  when  I 
shall  be  out  of  th"  rarth,  1  almost  think  I'm  rotted  in  the  ground." 
"  The  flowers  are  backward,  indeed,  ma'am,      [have  hardly 
seen  any  except  some  wall-flowers  further  down  the  row." 

"  Ah,  at  Number  two — Miss  Sharp's.  She's  poor  and  sing} — 
but  I'm  double  and  bloody." 

"  You  seem  to  have  some  fine  stocks." 

"Well,  and  so  I  have,  though  I  say  it  myself.  I'm  the  real 
Brompton — with  a  stronger  blow  than  any  one  in  the  place,  and 
as  to  sweetness,  nobody  can  come  nigh  me.  Would  you  like  to 
walk  in,  sir,  and  smell  me  ?" 

Accepting  the  polite  imitation,  I  stepped  in  through  the  little 
wicket,  and  in  another  moment  was  rapturously  sniffing  at  her 
stocks,  and  the  flower  with  the  sanguinary  name.  From  the 
walls  I  turned  off  to  a  rosebush,  remarking  that  there  was  a  very 
fine  show  of  buds. 


MRS.  GARDINER.  149 

"  Yes,  but  I  want  sun  to  make  me  bust.  You  should  have 
seen  me  last  June,  sir,  when  I  was  in  my  full  bloom.  None  of 
your  wishy  washy  pale  sorts  (this  was  a  fling  at  the  white  roses  at 
the  next  door) — none  of  your  Provincials,  or  pale  pinks.  There's 
no  maiden  blushes  about  me.     I'm  the  regular  old  red  cabbage ! " 

And  she  was  right,  for  after  all  that  hearty,  glowing,  fragrant 
rose  is  the  best  of  the  species — the  queen  of  flowers,  with  a  ruddy 
embonjioint,  reminding  one  of  the  goddesses  of  Rubens.  Well,  next 
to  the  rosebush  there  was  a  clump  of  Polyanthus,  from  which,  by 
a  natural  transition,  we  come  to  discourse  of  Auriculas.  This 
was  delicate  ground,  for  it  appeared  there  was  a  rivalry  between 
Number  Nine  and  Number  Four,  as  to  that  mealiness  which  in 
the  eye  of  a  fancier  is  the  chief  beauty  of  the  flower.  However, 
having  assured  her,  in  answer  to  her  appeal,  that  she  was  "  quite 
as  powdery  as  Mr.  Miller,"  we  went  on  very  smoothly  through 
Johnquils,  Narcissuses,  and  Ranunculus,  and  were  about  to  enter 
on  "Anymonies,"  when  Mrs.  Gardiner  suddenly  stopped  short, 
and  with  a  loud  "  whist ! "  pitched  her  trowel  at  the  head  of  an 
old  horse,  which  had  thrust  itself  over  the  wx>oden  fence. 

"  Drat  the  animals  !  I  might  as  well  try  flowering  in  the  Zoo- 
logical, with  the  beasts  all  let  loose !  It's  very  hard,  sir,  but  I 
can't  grow  nothing  tall  near  them  front  rails.  There  was  last 
year, — only  just  fancy  me,  sir — with  the  most  beautiful  Crown 
Imperial  you  ever  saw — when  up  comes  a  stupid  hass  and  crops 
off  my  head." 

I  condoled  with  her  of  course  on  so  cruel  a  decapitation,  and 
recovered  her  trowel  for  her,  in  return  for  which  civility  she 
plucked  and  presented  to  me  a  bunch  of  Heartsease,  apologizing 
that  "  she  was  not  Bazaar  (pro  Bizarre)  but  a  very  good  sort." 

"  It's  along  of  living  so  near  the  road,"   she  added,  recurring 


150  WHIMSICALITIES. 

to  the  late  invasion.  "  yesterday  I  was  bullocked,  and  tomorrow 
1  suppose  I  shall  be  pigged.  Then  there's  the  blackguard  men 
and  boys,  picking  and  stealing  as  they  go  by.  I  really  expect 
that  Borne  day  or  other  they'll  walk  in  and  strip  mel" 

I  sympathized  again;  bul  before  the  condolement  was  well 
finished  there  was  another  "whist!"  and  another  cast  of  the 
missile. 

"That's  a  dog!  They're  always  rampaging  at  my  front,  and 
there  goes  the  cat  to  my  back,  and  shell  claw  all  my  bark  off  in 
scrambling  out  of  reach!  Howsomever  that's  a  lint-  lupin,  ain't 
it;" 

1  assured  hex  that  it  deserved  t<>  \«-  exhibited  t..  the  Horticul- 
tural Society. 

"What,  to  tli''  flower  show.'     No  thankee.     Miss  Sharp  did, 
.iinl  made  sure  of  a  Bankside  Medal,  and  what  do  you  think  they 
her  I     Only  a  cerkittitit !  " 

"Shameful!"  1  ejaculated,  "why  it  was  giving  her  nothii 
all,"  and  once  more  I  restored  the  trowel,  which,  however,  had 
hardly  settled  in  its  owner's  hand,  than  with  a  third  "  whist  !"  <>fi' 
it  flew  again  like  a  rocket,  with  a  descriptive  announcement  of  the 
enemy. 

"Them  horrid  poultry!  Will  you-believe  it,  sir.  that  'ere  cock 
flew  over,  and  gobbled  up  my  Hen-and-Chickens !" 

"What!  l  all  your  pretty  chickens  and  their  dam  ?' " 

"  Yes,  all  my  daisy? 

[Reader  ! — if  ever  there  was  a  verbal  step  from  the  Sublime  U 
the  Ridiculous — that  was  it.] 


MRS.  GARDINER  151 


CHAPTER  IV. 


My  mask  fell  off.  That  destructive  cock  was  as  fatal  to  my 
incognito  as  to  the  widow's  flowers :  for  coming  after  the  cat  and 
the  dog,  and  the  possible  pigs,  and  the  positive  bullock,  and  the 
men,  and  the  boys,  and  the  horse,  and  the  ass,  I  could  not  help 
observing  that  my  quondam  acquaintance  would  have  been  better 
off  in  Bucklersbury. 

"  Lord !  and  is  it  you  ?"  she  exclaimed  with  almost  a  scream  ; 
"  well,  I  had  a  misgiving  as  to  your  woice,"  and  with  a  rapid  vol- 
ley of  semiarticulate  sounds  the  Widow  seized  my  right  hand  in 
one  of  her  own,  whilst  with  the  other  she  groped  hurriedly  in  her 
pocket.  It  was  to  search  for  her  handkerchief,  but  the  cambric 
was  absent,  and  she  was  obliged  to  wipe  off  the  gushing  tears 
with  her  gardening  glove.  The  rich  loam  on  the  fingers,  thus 
irrigated,  ran  off  in  muddy  rivulets  down  her  furrowed  cheeks, 
but  in  spite  of  her  ludicrous  appearance  I  could  not  help  sympa- 
thizing with  her  natural  feelings,  however  oddly  expressed. 

"  She  could  not  help  it,"  she  sobbed — "  the  sight  of  me  over- 
came her.  When  she  last  saw  me, — He  was  alive — who  had 
always  been  a  kind  and  devoted  husband — as  never  grudged  her 
nothing — and  had  given  her  that  beautiful  butter-tub  for  her 
laurustiny.  She  often  thought  of  him — yes,  often  and  often — 
while  she  was  gardening — as  if  she  saw  his  poor  dear  bones 
under  the  mould — and  then  to  think  that  she  came  up,  year  after 
year — "  flourishing  in  all  her  beauty  and  flagrance " — and  he 
didn't. — "  But  look  there  " — and  smiling  through  her  tears,  she 
pointed  towards  the  house,  and  told  me  a  tale,  that  vividly  re- 
minded me  of  her  old  contrivances  in  Bucklersbury. 

"  It's  a  table-beer  barrel.     I  had  it  sawed  in  half,  and  there  it 


L52  WHIMS IC  [LITIES. 

i-,  holding  them  two  hollows,  on  each  t.     Bui  I 

Bhian't  blow,  you  know,  for  a  sentry  '. " 

\'n\  hand  some  indi  ed  ! 

"Ain't  the]  i     And  there's  my  American  creeper.     Mi— Sharp 
pretends  to  creep,  but  Lor  bless  ye,  afore  ever  Bhe  gets  up  I 
first  floor  window,  1  shall  be  running  all  over  the  roof  of  the  will*. 
You  see  I'm  over  the  portico  already." 

A  compliment  to  her  climbing  powers  was  due  of  course,  and  I 
paid  it  on  the  Bpot;  but  we  were  uol  yel  done  with  cre< 
All  at  once  the  Widow  plucked  off  her  garden  bonnet,  and  dash- 
ing it  on  the  gravel  began  dancing  on  it  like  a  mad  woman,  or 
like  a  Scotch  lassie  tramping  her  dirty  linen.  At  last  when  it 
was  quite  flat,  she  picked  the  1 net  up  again,  and  carefully  open- 
ing it,  explained  the  matter  in  two  w<  i 

•■  A  near-wig!" 

And  then  she  went  on  to  declare  to  me  that  they  were  the 
plagues  of  her  life — and  there  \sa>  no  destroying  them. 

"It's  unknown  the  crabs  and  lobsters  I've  eaten  on  purpose, 
but  the  nasty  insects  won't  creep  into  my  claws.  And  in 
course  you  know  what  enemies  they  are  to  carnations.  Last 
year  they  ruined  my  Prince  Albert,  and  this  year  1  suppose  they'll 
spoil  the  Prince  of  Wales  !  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  propos  of  names. 

I  do  wish  that  our  Botanists,  Concologists,  and  Entomologists, 
and  the  rest  of  our  scientifical  Godfathers  and  Godmothers 
would  sit  soberly  down,  a  little  below  the  clouds,  and  revise  their 
classical,  scholastical,  and  polyglottical  nomenclatures.     Yea,  that 


MRS.  GARDINER.  153 

our  Gardeners  and  Florists  especially  would  take  their  watering 
pots  and  rebaptize  all  those  pretty  plants,  whose  bombastical  and 
pedantical  titles  are  enough  to  make  them  blush,  and  droop  their 
modest  heads  for  shame. 

The  Fly-flapper  is  bad  enough,  with  his  Agamemnon  butterfly 
and  Cassandra  moth — 

What's  Hecuba  to  him  or  he  to  Hecuba  1 
but  it  is  abominable  to  label  our  Flowers  with  antiquated,  out- 
landish, and  barbarous  flowers  of  speech.  Let  the  Horticulturists 
hunt  through  their  Dictionaries,  Greek  and  Latin,  and  Lem- 
priere's  Mythology  to  boot,  and  they  will  never  invent  such  apt 
and  pleasant  names  as  the  old  English  ones,  to  be  found  in 
Chaucer,  Spencer,  and  Shakspeare. 

Oh,  how  sweetly  they  sound,  look,  and  smell  in  verse — charm- 
ing the  eye  and  the  nose,  according  to  the  Rosicrucian  theory, 
through  the  ear  !  But  what  is  a  Scutellaria  Macrantha  to  either 
sense  ?  Day's  Eyes,  Oxeyes,  and  Lippes  of  Cowes  have  a  pasto- 
ral relish  and  a  poetical  significance — but  what  song  or  sonnet 
would  be  the  sweeter  for  a  Brunsvigia  ? 

There  is  a  meaning  in  Windflowers,  and  Cuckoo-buds,  and 
Shepherd's  Clocks,  whilst  the  Hare-bell  is  at  one  associated  with 
the  breezy  heath  and  the  leporine  animal  that  frequents  it.  When 
it  is  named,  Puss  and  the  blue-bell  spring  up  in  the  mind's  eye  to- 
gether— but  what  image  is  suggested  by  hearing  of  a  Schizanthus 
retusus  ! 

Then,  again,  Forget-me-Not  sounds  like  a  short  quotation  from 
Rogers'  "  Pleasures  of  Memory,"  Love-lies-Bleeding  contains  a 
whole  tragedy  in  its  title — and  even  Pick-your-Mothers-heart-out 
involves  a  tale  for  the  novelist.  But  what  story,  with  or  without 
a  moral,  can  be  picked  out  of  a  Dendrobium,  even  if  it  were  sur- 


154  WHIMSICALITIES. 

Darned  Clutterbuckii,  after  the  egotistical  or  Bycophantical  t";ishion 
of  the  present  day  ' 

There  was  a  jockey  once  who  complained  bitterly  of  the  Bale  <>t 
a  race-horse,  just  when  he  had  Learned  to  pronounce  it>  nam" 
properly — Roncesvalles ;  but  what  waB  that  hardship,  to  the  mis- 
fortune of  a  petty  nurseryman,  perhaps,  losing  hi^  Passion-Flower 
□  he  had  jusl  gol  by  heart  Ta  Pinnatistipula  J 

•■  I;  form  it  altogether!" 

It  looks  selfish,  in  the  learned,  to  invenl  such  difficult  n  »men- 
clatures,  as  if  they  wished  to  keep  th<'  character,  habits,  origin, 
and  properties  of  new  plants  to  themselves.  Nay,  more,  il  im- 
plies a  want  of  affection  for  their  professed  favourites — the  very 
objects  of  their  attentions. 

"How — a  want  of  affection,  sir :" 

Yea — even  so,  my  worthy  Adam '.  For  mark  mi — if  you 
really  loved  your  plants  and  flowers — 

"  Well.  Si 

Why,  then,  you  wouldn't  call  them  Buch  hard  names. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

To  return  to  Mrs.  Gfardiner. 

The  widow  having  described  the  r  the  earwigs,  beckon- 

ed me  towards  her  wall,  and  was  apparently  about  to introdn 
to  a  peach-tree,  when  abruptly  turning  round  to  me,  she  inquired 
if  I  knew  anything  of  Chemicals;  and  without  giving  time  to 
reply,  added  her  reason  to  the  question. 

"  Cos  I  want  you  to  pison  my  Hants." 

Your  aunts ! 

"  Yes,  the  hemmets.     As  to  Dr.  Watts,  he  don't  know  nothing 


MRS.  GARDINER.  155 

about  'era.  They  won't  collect  into  troops  to  be  trod  into  dust, 
they  know  better.  So  I  was  thiuking  if  you  could  mix  up  sum- 
mut  luscious  and  dillyterious — " 

She  stojjped,  for  a  man's  head  suddenly  appeared  above  the 
dwarf  wall,  and  after  a  nod  and  a  smile  at  the  widow,  saluted  her 
with  a  good  morning.  He  was  her  neighbour — the  little  old 
bachelor  at  Number  Eight.  As  he  was  rather  hard  of  hearing, 
my  companion  was  obliged  to  raise  her  voice  in  addressing  him, 
and  indeed  aggravated  it  so  much  that  it  might  have  been  heard 
at  the  end  of  the  row. 

"  Well,  and  how  are  you,  Mr.  Burrel,  after  them  East  winds  ?" 

"  Very  bad,  very  bad  indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Burrel,  thinking- 
only  of  his  rheumatics. 

"  And  so  am  I,"  said  Mrs.  Gardiner,  remembering  nothing  but 
her  blight :  "  I'm  thinking  of  trying  tobacco-water  and  a  squiringe." 

"  Is  that  good  for  it  ? "  asked  Mr.  B.,  with  a  tone  of  doubt  and 
surprise. 

"  So  they  say :  but  you  must  mix  it  strong,  and  squirt  it  as 
hard  as  ever  you  can  over  your  affected  parts." 

"  What,  my  lower  limbs  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  your  upper  ones  too.  Wherever  you  are  raag- 
gotty." 

"  Oh  ! "  grunted  the  old  gentleman,  "  you  mean  vermin." 

"  As  for  me,"  bawled  Mrs.  G.,  "  I'm  swarming !  And  Miss 
Sharp  is  wus  than  I  am." 

"  The  more's  the  pity,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  "  we  shall  have 
no  apples  and  pears." 

"  No,  not  to  signify.     How's  your  peaches  ? " 

"  Why,  they  set  kindly  enough,  ma'am,  but  they  all  dropped 
off  in  the  last  frosty  nights." 


156"  WHIMSICALITIES. 

-  All,  it  ain't  th.-  frost,"  roared  Mi-.  <;.  "You've  got  down 
to  the  gravel — I  know  you  have — you  look  bo  rusty  and 
scrubbj  '. " 

'•  1  wish  you  a  good  i iring,  ma'am,"  Baid  the  little  old  ba 

lor,  turning  very  red  in  the  Ewe,  and  making  rather  a  precipitate 
retreat  from  the  dwarf  wall — as  who  wouldn't  tlui<  attacked  at 
in  lii-  person  and  his  peach-tri 

"To  be  Bure  he  was  dreadful  unproductive,"  the  Widow 
"  l.iut  a  good  sort  of  body,  and  ten  times  pleasanter  than  her  next- 
door  neighbour  at    Number  Ten,  who  would  keep  coming  over 
her  wall  till  she  cut  off  hia  pumpkin." 

She  now  led  me  round  the  house  to  her  "  back,"  where  Bhe 
showed  me  her  grassplot,  wishing  Bhe  was  greener,  and  a 
it'  Bhe  oughl  uot  to  have  a  rolL     1  longed  to  say,  on  Greenwich 
authority,  that  abou  '      lay  was  the  proper  Beason  for 

the  operation,  but  the  joke  might  have  led  to  a  check  in  her  hor- 
ticultural confidences.     In  the  centre  of  the  lawn  thi  re  was  an 
oval  bed,  with  a  stunted  shrub  in  the  middle,  showing  some 
or  tour  clusters  of  purple  blossoms,  which  the  Widow  regarded 
with  intense  admiration. 

"You  have  heard,  1  Buppose,  of  a  mashy  soil  for  roddydan- 
dums?  Well,  look  at  my  bloom, — quite  as  luxurus  as  it'  I'd  been 
stuck  in  a  bog  !  " 

There  was  no  disputing  this  assertion  ;  and  so  she  led  me  "ff 
to  her  vegetables,  halting  at  last,  at  her  peas,  some  few  rows  of 
Blue  Prussians,  which  she  had  probably  obtained  from  Waterloo, 
they  were  so  long  in  coming  up. 

"  Backard,  an't  I  ? " 

Yes,  rather. 

"  Wery — but  Miss  Sharp  is  backarder  than  me.     She's  hardly 


MRS.  GARDINER.  157 

out  of  the  ground  yet — and  please  God,  in  another  fortnight  I 
shall  want  sticking." 

There  was  something  so  comic  in  the  last  equivoque,  that  I 
Avas  forced  to  slur  over  a  laugh  as  a  sneeze,  and  then  contrived  to 
ask  her  if  she  had  no  assistance  in  her  labours. 

"  What,  a  gardener  ?  Never  !  I  did  once  have  a  daily  job- 
ber, and  he  jobbed  away  all  my  dahlias.  I  declare  I  could  have 
cried  !  But's  very  hard  to  think  you're  a  valuable  bulb,  and 
when  summer  comes  you'-re  nothing  but  a  stick  and  a  label." 

Very  provoking  indeed ! 

"  Talk  of  transplanting,  they  do  nothing  else  but  transplant 
you  from  one  house  to  another,  till  you  don't  know  where  you 
are.  There  was  I,  thinking  I  was  safe  and  sound  in  my  own  bedr 
and  all  the  while  I  was  in  Mr.  Jones's." 

It's  scandalous ! 

"  It  is.  And  then  in  winter  when  they're  friz  out,  they  come 
round  to  one  a  beggin'  for  money.  But  they  don't  freeze  any 
charity  out  of  me." 

All  ladies,  however,  are  not  so  obdurate  to  the  poor  Gardeners 
in  winter — or  even  in  summer,  in  witness  whereof  here  follows  a 
story. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

An  elderly  gentlewoman  of  my  acquaintance,  on  a  visit  at  a 
country  house  in  Northamptonshire,  chanced  one  fine  morning  to 
look  from  her  bed-chamber,  on  the  second  story,  into  the  pleasure 
ground,  where  Adam,  the  Gardener,  was  at  work  at  a  flower- 
border,  directly  under  her  window.  It  was  a  cloudless  day  in 
July,  and,  the  sun  shone  fervidly,  on  the  old  man's  bald,  glossy 


158  WHIM8ICALITI1 

pate,  from  which  it  reflected  again  in  a  number  of  rays,  as  shining 
and  pointed  aa  bo  many  new  pins  and  needles. 

••  Bless  me!"  ejaculated  the  old  lady,  "it's  enough  bo  broil  all 
the  brains  in  his  bead;"  and  unable  to  bear  the  Bight,  she  with- 
drew from  the  casement.  Bui  lf-r  concern  and  her  curiosity  were 
too  much  excited  t"  allow  her  to  remain  in  peace.     Again  and 

again  she  took  a  ] p,   and  whenever  ■  a,  two 

Btories  below,  -1 the  same  bare  round  cranium,  Bupernaturally 

red,  and  almosl  intolerably  bright,  as  if  it   had  b<  '•»  in  the  very 
focus  of  a  burning  glass.     It  made  her  bead  ache  to  think  of  it ! 

Nevertheless  she  could  not  long  remove  her  eyes,  she  was 
cinated  towards  that  glowing  is  larks  are  said  to  be  by 

the  dazzling  of  a  mirror. 

In  the  mean  time,  to  ber  overheated  fancy,  the  bald  pate  ap- 
peared to  grow  redder  and  redder,  till  it  actually  seemed  red  hot. 
it  would  hardly  have  surprised  her  it'  the  blood,  boiling  a  gallop, 
bad  gushed  out  of  the  two  ears,  or  if  the  head,  after  Bmoking  a 
little,  had  burst  into  a  flame  by  spontaneous  combustion.  It 
Would  never  have  astonished  her  had  he  danced  off  in  a  frenzy 
of  brain  fever,  or  suddenly  dropped  down  dead  from  a  stn 
the  sun.  However  he  did  neither,  but  stall  k.j.t  work,  work, 
working  on  in  the  blazing  heat,  like  a  Balamander. 

"  It  don't  signify,"  muttered  the  old  lady,  "if  Ik-  can  Btand  it  I 
can't,"  and  again  she  withdrew  from  the  spectacle.  Bui  it  was 
only  for  a  minute.  She  returned  to  the  window,  and  tixi' 
eyes  on  the  bald,  shining,  glowing  object,  considerately  pitched 
on  it  a  cool  pot  of  beer — not  literally,  indeed,  but  in  the  shape  of 
five  penny  pieces,  screwed  up  tight  in  brown-paper. 

Moral. — There  is  nothing  like  well-directed  benevolence  ! 


MRS.  GARDINER.  159 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Yes,  all  gardeners  is  thieves  ! " 

As  I  could  not  dispute  the  truth  of  this  sweeping  proposition 
from  practical  experience,  I  passed  it  over  in  silence,  and  con- 
tented myself  with  asking  the  Widow  whence  she  acquired  all 
her  horticultural  knowledge,  which  she  informed  me  came  "  out 
of  her  Mawe." 

"  It  was  him  as  give  me  that  too,"  she  whimpered,  "  for  he 
always  humoured  my  flowering ;  and  if  ever  a  grave  deserved  a 
strewing  over  it's  his'n — There's  a  noble  old  helm  V 

Very,  indeed. 

"  Yes,  quite  an  old  antique,  and  would  be  beautiful  if  I  could 
only  hang  a  few  parachutes  from  its  branches." 

I  presume  you  allude  to  the  parasites  ? 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  do.  And  look  there's  my  harbour.  By 
and  by,  when  I'm  honey-suckled  I  shall  be  water-proof,  but  I 
ain't  quite  growed  over  enough  yet  to  sit  in  without  an  umbrella." 

As  I  had  now  pretty  well  inspected  her  back,  including  one 
warm  corner,  in  which  she  told  me  she  had  a  good  mind  to  cow- 
cumber — we  turned  toward  the  house,  the  Widow  leading^the 
way,  when  wheeling  sharply  round,  she  popped  a  new  question. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  my  walk  ?" 

Why  that  it  is  kept  very  clean  and  neat. 

"  Ah,  I  don't  mean  my  gravel,  but  my  walk.  At  present  you 
see  I  go  in  a  pretty  straight  line,  but  suppose  I  went  a  little  more 
serpentiny — more  zigzaggy — and  praps  deviating  about  among 
the  clumps — don't  you  think  I  might  look  more  picturesque  ?" 

I  ventured  to  tell  her,  at  the  risk  of  sending  her  ideas  to  her 
front,  that  if  she  meant  her  gait,  it  was  best  as  it  was ;  but  that  if 


160  WHIMSICALITIES. 

she  alluded  to  her  path,  a  straight  one  was  still  the  best,  con- 
sidering  the  size  of  her  grounds. 

"  Well,  I  dare  say  you're  right,"  she  replied,  "  for  I'm  only  a 
quarter  of  a  haker  if  you  measure  me  all  round." 

By  this  time  we  were  close  to  the  house,  where  the  appearance 
of  a  vine  suggested  to  me  the  query  whether  the  proprietor  ever 
gathered  any  grape-. 

"Ah,  my  wine,  my  wine,"  replied  the  Widow,  with  a-  grave  a 
shake  of  the  head,  and  as  melancholy  a  tone  as  if  she  had  really 
drunk  to  fatal  excess  of  the  ruby  juice.  "  That  wine  will  be  the 
death  of  me,  if  somebody  don't  nail  me  up.  My  poor  head  won't 
bear  ladder  work,  and  so  all  training  or  pruning  myself  is  out  of 
the  question.  Howsomever,  Miss  Sharp  is  just  as  bad,  and  so  I'm 
not  the  only  one  whose  wine  goes  where  it  should'nt." 

Not  by  hundreds  of  dozens,  thought  I,  but  there  was  no  time 
allowed  for  musing  over  my  own  loss  by  waste  and  leakage  :  I 
was  roused  by  a  "  now  come  here,"  and  lugged  round  the  corner 
of  the  house  to  an  adjacent  building,  which  bore  about  the  same 
proportion  to  the  villa  as  a  calf  to  a  cow. 

"  This  here's  the  washus." 

So  I  should  have  conjectured. 

"  Yes,  it's  the  washus  now — but  it's  to  be  a  greenus.  I  intend 
to  have  a  glazed  roof  let  into  it  for  a  conservatory,  in  the  winter, 
when  I  can't  be  stood  out  in  the  open  air.  They've  a  greenus 
at  Number  Five,  and  a  hottus  besides — and  thinks  I,  if  so  be  I 
do  want  to  force  a  little,  I  can  force  myself  in  the  copper  !" 

The  Copper ! 

"  Yes.  I'm  uncommon  partial  to  foreign  outlandish  plants — 
and  if  I'm  an  African,  you  know,  or  any  of  them  tropicals,  I 
shall  almost  want  baking." 


MRS.  GARDINER.  161 

These  schemes  and  contrivances  were  so  whimsical,  and  at  the 
same  time  so  Bucklersburyish,  that  in  spite  of  myself,  my  risible 
muscles  began  to  twitch,  and  I  felt  that  peculiar  internal  quiver 
about  the  diaphragm  which  results  from  suppressed  laughter. 
Accordingly,  not  to  offend  the  Widow,  I  hurried  to  take  my 
leave,  but  she  was  not  disposed  to  part  with  me  so  easily. 

"  Now  come,  be  candid,  and  tell  me  before  you  go,  what  you 
think  of  me  altogether.  Am  I  shrubby  enough  ?  I  fancy  some- 
times that  I  ought  to  be  more  deciduous." 

Not  at  all.  You  are  just  what  you  ought  to  be — shrubby  and 
flowery,  and  gravelly  and  grassy — and  in  summer  you  must  be  a 
perfect  nosegay. 

"Well — so  I  ham.  But  in  winter,  now, —  do  you  really  think 
I  am  green  enough  to  go  through  the  winter  ?" 

Quite.  Plenty  of  yews,  hollies,  box,  and  lots  of  horticultural 
laurels. 

[I  thought  now  that  I  was  off — but  it  was  a  mistake.] 

"  Well,  but — if  you  really  must  go — only  one  more  question — 
and  it's  to  beg  a  favour.  You  know  last  autumn  we  went  steam- 
ing up  to  Twitnam  ?" 

Yes— well  ? 

"  Well,  and  we  went  all  over  Mr.  What's-his-name's  Willa." 

Pope's — well  ? 

"  Well  then,  somebody  told  us  how  Mr.  Pope  was  very  famous 
for  his  Quincunx.     Could  you  get  one  a  slip  of  it  V 


162  WHIMSICALITIES 


CHAPTER   IX. 


"Well,  t">r  my  part," exclaims  Fashion,  "those  who  please  may 
garden;butl  shall  be  quite  satisfied  with  what  1  gel  from  my 
Fruiterer,  and  my  Greengrocer,  and  my  bouquets.  For  it  seems 
to  me,  Sir,  according  to  your  d  sscriptioo  of  thai  Widow,  and  her 
operations,  that  gardening  must  be  more  of  a  trouble  than  a  plea- 
sure. To  think  of  toiling  in  a  mosl  unfashionable  bonnel  and 
filthy  gloves,  for  the  Bake  of  a  few  Bowers,  that  one  may  buy  as 
good  or  better,  and  made  artificially  by  the  first  hands  in  Paris! 
Not  to  name  the  vulgarity  of  their  breeding.  Why  I  should 
faint  if  1  thought  my  orange  flowers  came  out  of  a  grocer's  tea- 
chest,  or  my  cameHia  out  of  the  butter-to 

doubl  of  it,  Madam,  and  that  you  would  never  come  to  if 
kled  with  common  water  instead  of  Eau  de  Cologne. 

"Of  course  not.  I  loath  i  pure  water — ever  Bince  I  have  heard 
that  all  London  bathes  in  it — the  lower  classes  and  all.  If  (hut 
is  what  one  waters  with,  I  could  never  garden.  And  then  those 
nasty  creeping  things,  and  the  earwigs!  I  really  believe  that 
on  ■  of  them  crawling  into  my  head,  would  be  enough  to  drive  out 
all  my  intellect- !  " 

Beyond  question,  Madam. 

"  I  did  once  see  a  Lady  gardening,  and  it  struck  me  with 
horror  !  How  she  endured  that  odious  caterpillar  on  her  clothes 
without  screaming',  surpasses  my  comprehension.  No,  no — it  is 
not  Lady's  work,  and  I  should  say  not  even  Gentlemen's,  though 
some  profess  to  be  very  fond  of  it." 

Why  as  to  that,  Madam,  there  is  a  style  of  gardening  that 
might  even  be  called  aristocratical,  and  might  be  indulged  in  by 
the  very  first  Exquisite  in  your  own  circle. 


MRS.  GARDINER. 


163 


"Indeed,  Sir?" 

Yes,  in  the  mode,  Madam,  that  was  practised  in  his  own  gar- 
den by  the  Poet  Thomson,  the  Author  of  the  "  Seasons." 

"  And  pray  how  was  that,  Sir  ? " 

Why  by  eating  the  peaches  off  the  wall,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets ;  or  in  other  words,  gobbling  up  the  fruits  of  industry, 
without  sharing  in  the  labour  of  production. 

"  Oh,  fie  !  that's  Radical !     What  do  you  say,  my  Lord  ? " 

"  Why,  'pon  honour,  your  ladyship,  it  doesn't  touch  me — for  I 
only  eat  other  people's  peaches — and  without  putting  my  hands 
in  my  pockets  at  all." 


AN     UNFORTUNATE     BEE-INQ. 


164  WHIMSICALITIES. 

CHAPTER  X. 

"  But  do  you  really  think,  Sir,"  asks  Chronic  Hypochondriasis, 
"that  gardening  is  such  a  healthy  occupation?" 

I  do.  But  better  than  my  own  opinion,  I  will  give  you  the 
sentiments  of  a  celebrated  but  eccentric  Physician  "ii  the  Bubject, 
when  In-  was  consulted  by  a  Patient  afflicted  with  your  own 
disease. 

"  Well,  Sir,  what's  the  matt.  ■]•  with  you?"  Baid  the  bluff  Doctor. 

-Why  nothing  particular,  Doctor,  if  you  mean  any  decided 
complaint.  Only  I  can't  .-at,  an. I  1  can'1  drink,  and  I  can't  Bleep, 
and  I  can't  walk — in  short,  I  can'l  enjoy  any  thing  except  being 
completely  miserable." 

It  was  a  clear  case  of  Hypochondriasis,  and  so  the  Physician 
merely  laid  down  the  ordinary  Banitorj  rules. 

"  But  you  haven't  prescribed,  Doctor,"  objected  the  Patient. 
"  You  haven't  told  me  what  L  am  to  take." 

"  Take  exercise." 

"Well,  but  in  what  shape,  Doctor?" 

"  In  the  shape  of  a  spade." 

"  What— dig  like  a  horse  ?" 

"  No — like  a  man." 

"  And  no  physic  ?" 

"  No.  You  don't  want  draughts,  or  pills,  or  powders.  Take 
a  garden — and  a  Sabine  farm  after  it — if  you  like." 

"  But  it  is  such  hard  work  ?" 

"Phoo,  phoo.  Begin  with  crushing  your  caterpillars — that's 
soft  work  enough.  After  that  you  can  kill  snails,  they're  harder 
— and  mind,  before  breakfast." 

"  I  shall  never  eat  any  ! " 


MRS.  GARDINER.  165 

"  Yes  you  will  when  you  have  earned  your  grub.  Or  hoe,  and 
rake,  and  make  yourself  useful  on  the  face  of  the  earth." 

"  But  I  get  so  soon  fatigued." 

"  Yes,  because  you  are  never  tired  of  being  tired.  Mere  indo- 
lence. Commit  yourself  to  hard  labour.  It's  pleasanter  than 
having  it  done  by  a  Magistrate,  and  better  in  private  grounds 
than  on  public  ones." 

"  Then  you  seriously  suppose,  Doctor,  that  gardening  is  good 
for  the  constitution  ?" 

"  I  do.  For  King,  Lords,  and  Commons.  Grow  your  own 
cabbages.  Sow  your  own  turnips, — and  if  you  wish  for  a  gray 
head,  cultivate  carrots." 

"  Well,  Doctor,  if  I  thought—" 

"  Don't  think,  but  do  it.  Take  a  garden,  and  dig  away  as  if 
you  were  going  to  bury  all  your  care  in  it.  When  you're  tired 
of  digging,  you  can  roll — or  go  to  your  walls,  and  set  to  work  at 
your  fruit-trees,  like  the  Devil  and  the  Bag  of  Nails." 

"  Well,  at  all  events,  it  is  worth  trying ;  but  I  am  sadly  afraid 
that  so  much  stooping — " 

"  Phoo,  phoo  !  The  more  pain  in  your  back,  the  more  you'll 
forget  your  hyps.  Sow  a  bed  with  thistles,  and  then  weed  it. 
And  don't  forget  cucumbers." 

"  Cucumbers ! " 

"  Yes,  unwholesome  to  eat,  but  healthy  to  grow,  for  then  you 
can  have  your  frame  as.  strong  as  you  please,  and  regulate  your 
own  lights.  Melons  still  better.  Only  give  your  melon  to  the 
melon  bed,  and  your  colly  to  the  collyflowers,  and  your  Melan- 
choly's at  an  end." 

"  Ah  !  you're  joking,  Doctor !  " 

"  No  matter.     Many  a  true  word  is  said  in  jest.     I'm  the  only 


166  WHIMSICALITU  8 

physician,  I  know,  who  prescribes  it,  bul  take  a  gard  n— the  first 
remedy  in  //'■  world — for  when  Adam  was  put  into  on.-  he  was 
quite  <i  new  mca 

But  Mis.  Gardiner. 

I  bad  taken  leave  of  her,  as   I   thought,  by  (I"'  wadidiousc 
door,  ami  was  hurrying  towards  tli'-  wickel  gate,  when  her 
apprized  me  thai  she  was  -till  following  me, 

"There  i-  one  thin--  that  you  oughl  to  Bee  at  any  rat<>,  if  no- 
body else  does." 

And  with  gentle  \riolence  she  drew  me  into  a  nook  behind  a 
privet  hedge,  and  with  Borne  emotion  asked  me  it'  I  knew  where 
1  was.     My  answi  r  i  was  in  the  n<  gative. 

"It's  Bucklersbury." 

The  words  operated  like  a  Bpell  on  my  memory,  and  I  imme- 
iliat.lv  recognised  the  old  civic  Bhrubbery.  Fes,  there  they 
were,  The  Persian  hilar,  the  Guelder  Rose,  the  Monthly  Rose, 
and  the  Laurustinus,  but  looking  bo  fresh  and  flourishing,  that  it 
was  no  wonder  1  had  not  known  them ;  and  besides  the  cheats 
and  tubs  were  either  gone,  or  plunged  in  the  earth. 

"Not  quite  so  grubby  as  I  were  in  town,"  said  the  Widow, 
"but  the  same  plants.  Old  friends  like,  with  new  faces.  Just 
take  a  sniff  of  my  laylock — it's  the  Bame  Bmell  as  I  had  when  in 
London,  except  the  smoke.  And  there's  my  monthly  rose — look 
at  my  complexion  now.  You  remember  how  smudgy  I  was 
afore.  Perhaps  you'd  like  a  little  of  me  for  old  acquaintance," 
and  plucking  from  each,  she  thrust  into  my  hand  a  bouquet 
big  enough  for  the  Lord  Mayor's  coachman  on  the  Ninth  of 
November. 

"  Yes,  we've  all  grown  and  blowm  together,"  she  continued,  look- 
ing from  shrub  to  shrub,  with  great  affection.     "  We  've  withered 


MRS.    GARDINER.  167 

and  budded,  and  withered  and  budded,  and  blossomed  and 
sweetened  the  air.     We  're  interesting,  ain't  we  ?" 

O  very — there's  a  sentiment  in  every  leaf. 

"  Yes,  that's  exactly  what  I  mean.  I  often  come  here  to 
enjoy  'em,  and  have  a  cry — for  you  know  he  smelt  'em  and  ad- 
mired 'em  as  well  as  us,"  and  the  mouldy  glove  might  again 
have  had  to  wipe  a  moistened  eye,  but  for  an  alarm  familiar  to 
her  ear,  though  not  to  mine,  except  through  her  interpretation. 

"  My  peas  !  my  peas  !  old  Jones's  pigeons  !" 

And  rushing  off  to  the  defence  of  her  Blue  Prussians,  she 
gave  me  an  opportunity  of  which  I  availed  myself  by  retreating 
in  the  opposite  direction,  and  through  the  wicket.  It  troubles  me 
to  this  day  that  I  cannot  remember  the  shutting  it :  my  mind 
misgives  me  that  in  my  haste  to  escape  it  was  most  probably 
left  open,  like  Abon  Hassan's  door,  and  with  as  unlucky  conse- 
quences. 

Even  as  I  write,  distressing  images  of  a  ruined  Eden  rise  up 
before  my  fancy — cocks  and  hens  scratching  in  flower  borders — 
pigs  routing  up  stocks  or  rolling  in  tulips — a  horse  cropping  rose- 
buds, and  a  bullock  in  Bucklersbury  !  and  all  this  perhaps  not  a 
mere  vision  !  That  woeful  Figure,  with  starting  tears  and  clasp- 
ed hands  contemplating  the  scene  of  havoc,  not  altogether  a 
fiction ! 

Under  this  doubt,  it  will  be  no  wonder  that  I  have  never  re- 
visited the  Widow,  or  that  when  I  stroll  in  the  suburbs  my  steps 
invariably  lead  me  in  any  other  direction  than  towards  Paradise 
Place. 


168  WHIMSICALITIES. 

CHAPTER   XL 

I  have  told  a  lie  ! 

I  have  written  the  thing  that  is  not,  and  the  truth  came  not 
from  my  pen.  There  was  deceit  in  my  ink,  and  my  paper  is 
stained  with  a  falsehood.  Nevertheless,  it  was  in  ignorance  thai  I 
erred,  and  consequently  the  lie  is  white. 

When  I  told  you,  Gentle  Reader,  thai  any  day  you  pleased 
you  mighl  behold  my  heroine,  Mrs.  Gardiner,  1  was  not  aware 
that  Mrs.  < l-ardiner  was  no  more. 

v-  No  more!" 

No — for  by  advices  just  received,  Bhe  is  now  Mrs.  Burrel,  the 
wife  of  the  quondam  little  old  Bachelor  at  Number  Eight 

"  What  ! — married  !  Why  then  she  did  go  over  the  wall  to 
him  as  sh  ■  promised." 

No,  miss — he  came  over  to  her. 

•■  What!— By  a  rope  ladder?" 

No — there  was  no  need  for  so  romantic  an  apparatus.  The 
wall,  as  already  described,  was  a  dwarf  one,  about  breast  high, 
over  which  an  active  man,  putting  one  hand  on  the  top,  might 
have  vaulted  with  ease.  How  Mr.  Burrel,  unused  to  such  gym- 
nastics, contrived  to  scramble  over  it,  he  did  not  know  himself; 
but  as  he  had  scraped  the  square  toes  of  each  shoe — damaged 
each  drab  knee — frayed  the  front  of  his  satin  waiscoat — and 
scratched  his  face,  the  probability  is,  that  after  clambering  to  the 
summit,  he  rolled  over,  and  pitched  headlong  into  the  scrubby 
holly  bush  on  the  other  side. 

For  a  long  time  it  appears,  without  giving  utterance  to  the 
slightest  sentiment  of  an  amorous  nature,  he  had  made  himself 
particular,  by  constantly  haunting  the  dwaif  wTall  that  divided 


MRS.  GARDINER. 


169 


him  from  the  widow, — overlooking-  her  indeed  more  than  was 
proper  or  pleasant.  For  once,  however,  he  happened  to  look  at 
the  right  moment,  for  casting  his  eyes  towards  Number  Nine,  he 
saw  that  his  fair  neighbour  was  in  a  very  disagreeable  and  dan- 
gerous predicament — in  short,  that  she  was  in  her  own  water- 
butt,  heels  upwards. 


He  immediately  jumped  over  the  brick  partition,  and  bellowing 
for  help,  succeeded,  he  knew  not  how,  in  hauling  the  unfortunate 
lady  from  her  involuntary  bath. 

"  Then  it  was  not  a  suicide  ?  " 

By  no  means,  madam.     It  was  simply  from  taking  her  hobby 
8 


170  WHIMSICALITIES. 

to  water.  In  plainer  phrase,  whilsl  endeavouring  to  establish  an 
aquatic  lily  in  her  water-butt,  Bh<  overbalanced  herself  and  Gall  in. 

The  rest  may  be  guessed.  Before  the  Widow  waa  dry,  Mr. 
Burrel  had  declared  his  passion — Gratitude  whispered  that  with- 
out him  she  would  have  been  "no  better  than  a  dead  lignum 
vita" — and  Bhe  gave  him  her  hand. 

The  marriage  day,  however,  was  nol  fixed.  At  the  desire  of 
the  bride,  it  was  left  to  a  contingency,  which  was  resolved  by  her 
"orange-flowering"  last  Wednesday — and  so  ended  the  "  Horti- 
cultural Romance"  of  Mrs.  G-ardirj 


3.   Ikrtrli   nn   tjjj   Hn air. 

"  All  have  their  exita  and  their  entrances." 

It  is  a  treat  to  see  Prudery  get  into  an  omnibus.  Of  course 
she  rejects  the  hand  that  is  held  out  to  her  by  male  Civility.  It 
might  give  her  a  squeeze.  Neither  does  she  take  the  firsl  va- 
cant place;  but  looks  out  for  a  seat,  if  possible,  between  an  inno- 
cent little  girl  and  an  old  "woman.  In  the  mean  time  the  omni- 
bus moves  on.  Prudery  totters — makes  a  snatch  at  Civility's 
nose — or  bis  neck — or  anywhere — and  missing  her  hold  rebounds 
to  tbe  other  side  of  the  vehicle,  and  plumps  down  in  a  strange 
gentleman's  lap.  True  modesty  would  have  escaped  all  these 
indecorums. 


171 


The  following  story  I  had  from  the  lips  of  a  well-known  Aero- 
naut, and  nearly  in  the  same  words. 

It  was  on  one  of  my  ascents  from  Vauxhall,  and  a  gentleman 
of  the  name  of  Mavor  had  engaged  himself  as  a  companion  in 
my  aerial  excursion.  But  when  the  time  came  his  nerves  failed 
him,  and  I  looked  vainly  around  for  the  person  who  was  to  oc- 
cupy the  vacant  seat  in  the  car.  Having  waited  for  him  till  the 
last  possible  moment,  and  the  crowd  in  the  gardens  becoming 
impatient,  I  prepared  to  ascend  alone ;  and  the  last  cord  that 
attached  me  to  the  earth  was  about  to  be  cast  off,  when  suddenly 
a  strange  gentleman  pushed  forward  and  volunteered  to  go  up 
with  me  into  the  clouds.  He  pressed  the  request  with  so  much 
earnestness,  that  having  satisfied  myself  by  a  few  questions  of 
his  respectability,  and  received  his  promise  to  submit  in  every 
point  to  my  directions,  I  consented  to  receive  him  in  lieu  of  the 
absentee  ;  whereupon  he  stepped  with  evident  eagerness  and 
alacrity  into  the  machine.  In  another  minute  we  were  rising 
above  the  trees  ;  and  in  justice  to  my  companion,  I  must  say 
that  in  all  my  experience,  no  person  at  a  first  ascent  had  ever 
shown  such  perfect  coolness  and  self-possession.  The  sudden  rise 
of  the  machine,  novelty  of  the  situation,  the  real  and  exaggerated 
dangers  of  the  voyage,  and  the  cheering  of  the  spectators,  are  apt 
to  cause  some  trepidation,  or  at  any  rate  excitement  in  the  bold- 
est individuals  ;  whereas  the  stranger  was  as  composed  and  com- 
fortable as  if  he  had  been  sitting  quite  at  home  in  his  own  library 
chair.     A  bird  could  not  have  seemed  more  at  ease,  or  more  in 


172  WHIMSICALITIES 

lement,  and  yet  he  solemnly  assured  me  upon  his  honour, 
that  he  had  never  been  up  before  in  his  life.  Instead  of  exhibit- 
ing any  alarm  ai  our  great  height  from  the  earth,  he  evince  I 
liveliest  pleasure  whenever  I  emptied  one  of  my  bags  of  Band, 
ven  once  or  twice  urged  me  t<>  part  with  n i >  >r. •  of  the  ballast. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  wind,  which  was  very  light,  carried  oa 
gently  along  in  a  north-east  direction,  and  the  day  being  particu- 
larly bright  aud  clear,  we  enjoyed  a  delightful  bii  w  of 
the  greal  metropolis,  and  the  Burrounding  country.  My  com- 
panion listened  with  greal  interest,  while  1  pointed  oul  to  him  the 
various  objects  over  which  we  passed,  till  1  happened  casually  to 
observe  that  the  balloon  must  be  directly  over  Hoxton.  My  fel- 
low-traveller then  for  the  first  time  betrayed  some  uneasiness,  and 
anxiously  inquired  whether  I  thought  he  could  be  recognised  by 

one  at  our  then  d  earth,     ft  was,  I  told  him, 

quite  impossible.  rtheless  he  continued  very  uneasy, 

quently  repeating  "  I  hope  they  don't  Bee  me,"  and  entreating  me 
earnestly  to  discharge  more  ballast  It  then  flashed  upon  me 
foT  the  first  time  that  his  offer  to  ascend  with  me  had  been  a 
whim  of  the  moment,  and  that  he  feared  tin  sen  at  that 

perilous  elevation  by  any  memb  r  of  bis  own  family.  I  therefore 
asked  him  it'  he  resid  d  al  Hoxton,  to  which  he  replied  in  the 
affirmative;  urging  again  and  with  great  vehemence,  the  empty- 
ing of  the  remaining  sand 

This,  however,  was  out  of  the  question.  :tude 

of  the  balloon,  the  course  of  the  wind,  and  the  proximity  of  the 
sea-coast.     But  my  comrade  was  deaf  to  th  os — he  in- 

sisted on  going  higher;  and  on  my  refusal  to  discharge  more 
ballast,  dehberately  pulled  off  and  threw  his  hat,  coat,  and  waist- 
coat overboard. 


A  TALE  OF  TERROR.  173 

"  Hurrah,  that  lightened  her ! "  he  shouted ;  "  but  it's  not 
enough  yet,"  and  he  began  unloosening  his  cravat. 

"Nonsense,"  said  I,  "my  good  fellow,  nobody  can  recognise 
you  at  this  distance,  even  with  a  telescope." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  he  retorted  rather  simply ;  "  they 
have  sharp  eyes  at  Miles's." 

"  At  where  ? " 

"At  Miles's  Madhouse!" 

Gracious  Heaven ! — the  truth  flashed  upon  me  in  an  instant. 
I  was  sitting  in  the  frail  car  of  a  balloon  at  least  a  mile  above  the 
earth,  with  a  Lunatic.  The  horror  of  the  situation,  for  a  minute, 
seemed  to  deprive  me  of  my  own  senses.  A  sudden  freak  of  a 
distempered  fancy — a  transient  fury — the  slightest  struggle,  might 
send  us  both,  at  a  moment's  notice,  into  eternity !  In  the  mean 
time,  the  Maniac,  still  repeating  his  insane  cry  of  "higher,  higher, 
higher,"  divested  himself  successively,  of  every  remaining  article 
of  clothing,  throwing  each  portion^  as  soon  as  taken  off,  to  the 
winds.  The  inutility  of  remonstrance,  or  rather  the  probability  of 
its  producing  fatal  irritation,  kept  me  silent  during  these  opera- 
tions :  but  judge  of  my  terror,  when  having  thrown  his  stockings 
overboard,  I  heard  him  say,  "  We  are  not  yet  high  enough  by 
ten  thousand  miles — one  of  us  must  throw  out  the  other." 

To  describe  my  feelings  at  this  speech  is  impossible.  Not  only 
the  awfulness  of  my  position,  but  its  novelty,  conspired  to 
bewilder  me — for  certainly  no  flight  of  imagination — no,  not  the 
wildest  nightmare  dream  had  ever  placed  me  in  so  desperate  and 
forlorn  a  situation.  It  was  horrible ! — horrible  !  Words,  plead- 
ings, remonstrances  were  useless,  and  resistance  would  be  certain 
destruction.  I  had  bettor  have  been  unarmed,  in  an  American 
wilderness,  at  the  mercy  of  a  savage  Indian !     And  now,  without 


171  WHIMSICALITIES. 

daring  t<>  stir  a  hand  in  opposition,  1  saw  the  Lunatic  deliberately 
heave  first  one,  ;m<l  then  the  other  bag  of  ballasl  from  the  oar,  the 
balloon  of  course  rising  with  proportionate  rapidity.  Up,  up,  up 
it  Boared — to  an  altitude  1  had  never  even  dared  to  contemplate — 
the  earth  -ua-  lost  to  my  ■  I  nothing  bul  the  huge  clouds 

rolled  beneath  us  I     The  world  was  gone  1  felt  for  ever! 
Maniac  however,  was  Btill  dissatisfied  with  our  ascent,  and  again 
to  mutter. 

wllavr  you  a  wife  and  children?"  he  asked  abruptly. 

Prompted  by  a  natural  instinct,  and  with  a  pardonable  deviation 
from  truth,  1  replied  that  1  \\a>  married,  and  had  fourteen  young 
ones  who  depei  d<  d  on  me  for  their  bread. 

"  I  la  !  ha  I  ha!"  laughed  th"  Maniac,  w  itli  a  Bparkling  of  hi- 
that  chilled  my  very  marrow.     "  1  have  three  hundred  wives,  and 
live  thousand  children;  and  if  th"  balloon  had  Dot  !"■•  d  bo  heavy 
by  carrying  double,  1  should  have  been  home  to  them  by  this 
time.'' 

"And  where  do  they  1  i v . - ;  I  asked,  anxious  to  gain  time  by 
any  question  that  first  occurred  to  me. 

f  In  the  moon,"  replied  the  Maniac;  "and  when  1  have  light- 
ened the  car  1  shall  be  there  in  no  time." 

I  \eard  no  more,  fur  suddenly  approaching  me,  and  throwing 
his  arms  around  my  body 


175 


AS    PRACTISED    BY    VINCENT    PRIESSNITZ,    AT    GRAFENBERG. 
BY    R.    T.    CLARIDGE,    ESQ. 


The  element  that  never  tires 

Basil  Hall. 


The  greatest  danger  to  the  health  or  lite  in  Foreign  Travelling, 
at  least  in  Germany,  is  notoriously  from  damp  linen.  A  German- 
Ofen  is  not  adapted  for  the  process  vulgarly  called  "  airing,"  and 
the  "  Galloping  Horse,"  alluded  to  by  Wordsworth  in  his  poem 
on  a  Hanoverian  Stove,  is  any  thing  but  a  clothes-horse.  If  you 
send  your  linen  to  be  washed,  therefore,  you  must  expect  in 
return  a  shirt  as  damp  as  a  Dampschiff — stockings  as  dripping  as 
the  hose  of  a  fire-engine,  and  a  handkerchief  with  which  you 
cannot  dry  your  eyes.  As  a  matter  of  course,  you  must  look, 
now  and  then,  for  a  wet  blanket,  or  a  moist  sheet ;  and  should 
that  be  the  case,  there  is  only  one  warming-pan  to  our  knowledge 
in  the  Rhenish  Provinces — and  that  one  is  at  Coblence. 

Now  this  drawback  would  alone  prova  a  damper  to  many  an 
English  Tourist,  who  would  otherwise  go  up  the  Rhine :  for  of 
what  avail  are  all  his  Patent  Waterproof  articles — his  umbrella, 
his  Mackintosh,  his  galoshes,  India-rubber  shoes,  and  Perring's 
beaver,  whilst  he  is  thus  liable  to  wet  next  his  skin  ?  In  fact,  we 
believe  this  danger,   more  than  any  sea  risk  or  land  peril,  has 


17G 

oa  from  r< 
.   by  the  unwholi  some  pn 
.  checking 
invisible  perspiration  by  putting  on  humid  garments ;  than 
h  Qothing  can  be  more  injurious  to  even  the  strongest 
stitution, — witn(  al  shirt  that  clung  so  to  Hercules, 

which,  all  cal  embellishment, 

Bimpl  ■  him   wrii  I    by   that  jade 

1  lejanira. 

The  catastro]  he  of  .  however,  on  the 

very  doubtful  testimony  of  Greek  bistorians.     It  is  true,  th 
our   Engli  rj    notions  he  oughl    to  have  died — 

inflammation  on  the  lungs — but  ao  •  the   Hydropal 

the  S  only  the  Btronger  for  a 

"  C.I.I  Wet  Ba  tick— or  rather 

club — he  ought   merely  to  have  broken  out   in  salutary   I 
which  would  have  removed  all  hi-  complaints,  if  he  had  anj 
example,  one  Mr.  Rausse  names  all  chronic  di  t  the  lungs, 

all  organic  defects,  and  all  diseases  in  people  whose  muscles  and 
sinews  arc  past  all  poir  />,  and  from   whom 

principle  has  passed  beyond  recovery — which  said  people,  if  we 
know  any  thing  of  plain  English,  most  1>"  neither  more  nor  leas 
than  "  Stiff-uns /"  infirm  this  cadaverous  %;■  w  of  them, 

p.  74  declares  that  these  assertions  of  Mr.  Rausse  are  supported 
by  a  Mr.  Raven  ! 

Professor  Munde,  however,  who  was  cured  of  a  painful  • 
plaint  during  his  residence  at  Grafenberg,  stops  short  of  the  cure 
of  Death  by  light  or  heavy  wet,  but  enumerates  Gout,  Rheuma- 
tism, Tic  Doloureux,  Hernia,    Hypochondria,    Pil<  3,    1 '■  vers  of  all 
kinds,  Inflammations,  Cholera,  &c.,  <fec.,  Are.,  to  which  Mr.  Cla- 


HYDROPATHY,  OR  THE  COLD  WATER  CURE.      177 

ridge  adds  a  list,  by  the  Reverend  John  Wesley,  of  some  hundred 
of  diseases,  in  man,  woman,  and  child,  to  be  cured  by  "  Primitive 
Physic,"  alias  Aqua  Pumpy.  Nay,  we  have  cases  of  Illustrious 
Patients — Baron  Blank,  Count  Dash,  General  Asterisk,  the  Mar- 
quis de  Anonymous,  and  others,  who  were  all  well  washed,  and 
all  washed  well, — and  so  far  from  suffering-  from  wet  linen,  were 
actually  swaddled  in  it ;  and  instead  of  being  chilled,  actually 
heated  from  being  put  up  damp,  like  haystacks.  It  follows  that 
Hercules  could  not  be  carried  off  in  the  way  supposed, — and 
especially  if  he  enjoyed  such  indelicate  health  as  he  exhibits  in 
his  pictures  and  statues. 

The  common  dread  of  water  and  wetting  seems  certainly  to 
be  rather  overstrained.  We  think  little,  indeed,  of  the  instance 
of  Thomas  Cam,  aged  20*7,  of  whose  burial  registry  Mr.  Claridge 
furnishes  an  extract  from  the  parish  books ;  first,  because  there  is 
no  evidence  that  this  very  "  Old  Tom "  was  in  the  habit  of 
soaking  his  clay  with  water;  and  secondly,  because  207  was  very 
probably  the  way  with  an  ignorant  Clerk  of  setting  doion  27. 
Neither  do  we  attach  much  weight  to  the  opinions  of  the  Travel- 
lers, who  "  assure  us  that  amongst  the  Arabs  this  age  is  not  un- 
frequently  attained,  and  that  men  are  frequently  married  at  a  hun- 
dred years  of  age  ;  first,  because  the  Desert  is  not  particularly  well 
supplied  with  water ;  and  secondly,  that  consequently  the  Arabs 
must  be  of  rather  dry  habits.  But  looking  at  another  animal 
which  lives  in  the  wet,  and  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  water-drink- 
ers, namely,  the  whale,  we  are  quite  ready  to  allow,  as  to  its 
longevity,  that  it  is  "  the  longest  creature  as  lives." 

Take  courage,  then,  ye  Valetudinarians,  and  apply  for  your 

passports.     Go  fearlessly  up  the  Rhine,  into  swampy  Holland,  or 

Belgium,  or  wherever  vou  will.     Your  old  bugbears  are  actually 
8* 


178  WHlMSICALITIi 

Bta—  real  reforms  to  the  constitution.     Write  on  yours 
if  you  choose,  "This  ride  uppermost,''  bul  omil  the  fellow  • 
l I « » 1 1 ,  "To  be  kepi  dry."     You  wiD  thrive  like  the  hydrangeas 
the  more  you  are  watered.     Ride  outside,  and  forget  your  um- 
brella.    Prefer  soaked  coach-boxes  and  sloppy  boats — and  it'  you 
even  go  overboard,  remember  that  the  mother  of  Achill 
make  him  invulnerable,  ducked  him   in  :i  river.     Ask  for  damp 
Bheets,  and  pay  extra  for  ;i  wel    blanket  —  nay,  never  say  die, 
though  after  :i  jolly  night  you  find  the  next  morning  that  yon 
have  Blepl  in  a  dewy  meadow,  with  the  moon  for  a  warming-pan. 
It',  in  walking  on  St.  Swithin's  day,  you  happen  t"  get  under  a 
spout,  stay  then — it's  n  Douch-Bad^-vicfc  Frontispiece,  figure  I. 
and  you  are  lucky  in  getting  it  •_•■■  H  ould  you  charn 

trip  and  throw  yours  It'  a  fair  backfall,  \sith  your  bead  in  a  pud- 
dle, don't  rise,  but  lie  the  otedlj  as  a  drunkard,  for  that 
_  -is  a  Kopf-Bad.  Instead  of  striding  over  a  ken- 
nel, step  into  it. — for  it  is  as  if'"!  as  a  Fuss-Bad.  And  when  a 
tub  of  cold  water  comes  in  your  way,  squal  down  in  it  bke  Par- 
son Adams,  when  he  played  at  "the  Ambassador,"  for  thai  is  a 
Sitz-Bad — as  you  may  see  in  figure  -'i,  where  a  gentleman  is  >it- 

is  happy  :i^  a  Merman,  with  his  tail  in  a  tub,  and  n 
Claridge  on  the  -  Cold  Water  Cm 

And  should  you  experience,  though  you  ought  not,  any  aguish 
chills,  or  ill  ura  tic  pains  from  this  mode  of  conduct — push  on  at 
once  to  Grafenberg,  where  Vincenl  Priessnitz  will  soak  all  com- 
plaints out  of  you,  like  salt  from  a  ling.  As  the  prefia 
is  "only  eight  or  ten  days'  journey  from  London,"  and  you 
may  go  either  by  Ostend  or  Hamburg  ;  but  the  first  route  is  the 
best,  because  you  can  >r,  t  your  thirst  by  the  way  al  the  Bpring 
of  Aix-la-ChajMjlle,  and  the  Brunnen-  of  Nassau.     For   our  own 


HYDROPATHY,  OR  THE  COLD  WATER  CURE.      179 

parts  we  prefer  our  washing  done  at  home  ;  but  never  mind  us. 

Push  on  for  the  great  Fountain  Tavern  in  Silesia,  for  depend 
upon  it  whatever  you  feel,  whether  flushes,  shudderings,  gnaw- 
ings,  cravings,  creepings,  shootings,  throbbings,  dartings  and  prick- 
ings— it  is  only  nature  boring  for  water. 

Never  stop,  then,  except  perhaps  for  a  minute  or  so  to  look  at 
the  votive  fountain  the  Wallachian  and  Moldavian  patients  have 
erected,  dedicated  "  Au  Genie  de  l'Eau  Froide," — never  halt  till 
you  have  reached  the  famous  House  of  Call  for  Watermen,  and 
pledged  the  great  Aquarius  himself  in  a  goblet  of  his  own 
Adam's  ale.  If  you  are  faint  it  will  revive  you,  if  thirsty  it  will  re- 
fresh you,  and  if  you  have  broken  a  bone  or  two  by  the  upsetting 
of  a  diligence,  the  very  man  for  a  fracture  stands  before  you.  In 
fact  his  first  exploit  in  Hydropathy  was  with  cold  water  and  wet 
bandages,  and  some  little  assistance  from  a  table,  to  set  and  mend 
two  of  his  own  broken  ribs  !  After  that  if  you  are  so  unreasonable 
as  still  to  require  any  evidence  of  the  peculiar  virtues  of  the  fluid, 
know  that  by  drinking  and  dispensing  it,  ice  cold  though  it  be, 
Vincent  Priessnitz  has  made  himself  so  warm  that  he  is  worth 
50,0007. 

The  above  advice,  it  must  be  remembered,  is  not  ours,  but 
drawn  from  tne  book  before  us.  We  should  be  loth  to  be  re- 
sponsible personally  for  any  lady  or  gentleman  going  so  far  off  as 
Silesia  to  drown  themselves,  and  by  the  awfully  premeditated 
process  of  taking  "  twenty  glasses  of  water  a  day."  Neither 
should  we  like  to  have  to  answer  to  a  visitor  to  Grafenberg  for 
the  discomfort  of  a  room  like  "  a  soldier's  chamber  in  a  barrack," 
so  low  that  Mr.  Gross  could  not  stand  upright  in  it — with  no 
better  furniture  than  a  bedstead  with  a  straw  mattress — a  chest  of 
deal  drawers,  a  table,  two  chairs,  a  decanter  and  glass  (for  water 


180  WHIMSICALITIES. 

only)  and  an  " enormous  washhand  basin."     It  would  vex 
have  commended  any  one  to  a  table  where  it  is  generally  i 

1  that  t'si'  food  "  though  |  1  atiful  is  coarse."     He  migh 
be  pleased  either   with  the  remedy  of  drinking  so  much   v 
that  there  was  little  room  for  the  solids.     And,  above  all,  he  would 
naturally  cry  out  against  the  heart-burnings  incurred  by  Mr.  Cla- 

himself,  and  which  were  relieved  by  a  cure  certainly  \ 
than  li 

"  The  burnirjg  liquid  which  rises  from  the  stomach  to  the  throat 
is  often  caused  at  Grafenberg  by  the  abundance  of  the  greasy 
food  with  which  the  table  is  supplied.  At  the  period  of  the 
crisis  it  frequently  makes  its  appearance  at  the  termination  "I 
humours,  of  which  part  is  discharged  by  the  first  courses.  1  was 
sharply  attacked  by  it  at  this  period  of  the  treatment,  and  'a 
diarrhoea  which  I  brought  on  in  gorging  myself  with  cold  water 
during  two  days  completely  cured  roe.'" — P.  237. 

Now,  it  may  be  very  well  for  Priessnitz,  who  boards  and  1 

dents,  to  ]  rescribe  water  by  the  pailful  to  preveni  gluttony  ; 
or  to  give  them  such  beds  and  rooms  as  must  necessarily  pro- 
mote early  rising  a  td  nc  >urage  exercise  out  of  doors.  It  may 
be  quite  consistent  with  his  theory  to  neither  light  nor  pave  his 
ihorhood,  so  that  his  clients  are  sure  on  a  rainy  day  of  a 
Mud-hath  in  addition  to  their  other  om-s.  But.  as  we  said  before, 
bould  not  like  to  advise  any  one  we  love  or  like  to  put  them- 
s  Ives  under  his  wet  hands,  unless  inordinately  fond  of  duck  and 
cold  pig.  Moreover,  many  parts  of  his  treatment  are  practised, 
if  not  openly  at  least  secretly,  in  our  own  country  ;  and  at  a  con- 
sequent saving  of  all  the  trouble  and  expense  to  the  patients  of  a 
journey  to  Silesia.  The  damp  sheet  system  is  no  secret  to  the 
chambermaids  at  our  provincial  inns,  and  the  metropolitan  publi- 


HYDROPATHY,  OR  THE  COLD  WATER  CURE.      181 

cans  and  milkmen  are  far  from  blind  to  the  virtues  of  cold  water 
as  a  beverage.  A  fact  that  probably  accounts  for  trie  peculiar 
healthiness  of  London  compared  with  other  capitals. 

To  be  candid,  we  have  besides  a  private  prejudice  against  any- 
thing like  a  Grand  Catholicon — not  the  Pope,  but  a  universal 
remedy  for  all  diseases,  from  elephantiasis  down  to  pip.  And  we 
become  particularly  skeptical  when  we  meet  with  a  specific  backed 
by  such  a  testimonial  as  that  of  the  Rev.  John  Wesley  in  favor 
of  Water  versus  Hydrophobia. 

"And  this,  I  apprehend,  accounts  for  its  frequently  curing  the 
bite  of  a  mad-dog,  especially  if  it  be  repeated  for  twenty-five  or 
thirty  days  successively." — P.  81. 

Of  which  we  can  only  say,  that  on  the  production  of  certificates 
of  three  such  cures,  signed  by  a  respectable  turncock,  we  will  let 
whoever  likes  it  be  worried  by  a  mad  pack  of  hounds,  and  then 
cure  him  by  only  showing  him  Aldgate-pump. 

Moreover,  we  are  aware  of  the  aptitude  of  our  cousins  the  Ger- 
mans to  go  the  whole  way  "  and  a  bittock"  in  their  theories.  As 
Mr.  Puff  says  of  the  theatrical  people,  "  Give  those  fellows  a  good 
thing  and  they  never  know  when  to  have  done  with  it."  Thus 
allowing  the  element  to  be  wholesome,  for  ablution  or  as  a  bever- 
age, they  order  you  not  only  to  swig,  sit,  stand,  lie,  and  soak  in  it, 
but  actually  to  snuff  it  up  your  nose — what  is  a  bridge  without 
water  ? — for  a  cold  in  the  head  ! — p.  228. 

It  was  our  intention  to  have  quoted  a  case  of  fever  which  was  got 
under  much  as  Mr.  Eraidwood  would  have  quenched  an  inflamma- 
tion in  a  house.  But  our  limits  forbid.  In  the  mean  time  it  ha 
been  our  good  fortune,  since  reading  Clari  lge  on  Hydropathy,  to 
see  a  sick  drake  avail  himself  of  the  "  Cold  Water  Cure"  at  the  dis- 
pensary in  St.  James's-park.    First,  in  waddling  in,  he  took  a  Fuss- 


182 


WHIMSICALITIES. 


Bad;  then  he  took  a  Sitzbad,  and  then,  turning  his  curly  tail  up 
into  the  air,  he  touk  a  Kopf-Bad.  Lastly,  he  rose  almost  upright 
on  his  latter  end,  and  made  such  a  triumphant  flapping  with  his 
wings  that  we  really  expected  he  was  going  to  shout  "Pries-nit/. 
for  ever  !"  But  no  such  thing.  lie  only  cried,  "  Quack  !  quack  ! 
quack !" 


183 


fir.    €  ij ti  b li . 


A      PISCATORY      ROMANCE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  Let  me  live  harmlessly,  and  near  the  brink 
Of  Irent  or  Avon  have  a  dwelling  place, 
Where  I  may  see  my  quill  or  cork  down  sink 
With  eager  bite  of  Perch,  or  Bleak,  or  Dace." 

J.  Davoks. 

"  I  care  not,  I,  to  fish  in  seas, 
Fresh  rivers  best  my  mind  do  please, 
Whose  sweet  calm  course  I  contemplate, 
And  seek  in  life  to  imitate." 

Piscator's  Song. 

"  The  ladies,  angling  in  the  crystal  lake, 
Feast  on  the  waters  with  the  prey  they  take, 
At  once  victorious  with  their  lines  and  eyes, 
They  make  the  fishes  and  the  men  their  prize." 

Waller. 

Mr.  Chubb  was  not,  by  habit  and  repute,  a  fisherman.  An- 
gling had  never  been  practically  his  hobby.  He  was  none  of 
those  enthusiasts  in  the  gentle  craft,  who  as  soon  as  close  time 
comes  to  an  end,  are  sure  to  be  seen  in  a  punt  at  Hampton  Deeps, 
under  the  arches  of  Kew  Bridge,  or  on  the  banks  of  the  New 
River,  or  the  Lea,  trolling  for  jack,  ledgering  for  barbel,  spinning 
for  trout,  roving  for  perch,  dapping  for  chub,  angling  for  gudgeon, 
or  whipping  for  bleak.  He  had  never  fished  but  once  in  his  life, 
on  a  chance  holiday,  and  then  caught  but  one  bream,  but  that 
once  sufficed  to  attach  him  to  the  pastime ;  it  was  so  still,  so 
quiet,  so  lonely  ;  the  very  thing  for  a  shy,  bashful,  nervous  man, 


184  WHIMSICALITIES. 

as  taciturn  as  ;i  post,  as  formal  as  a  yew  hedge,  and  as  sedate  as 
a  quaker.  Nevertheless  he  did  not  fall  in  love  with  fishing,  as 
some  do,  rashly  and  madly,  but  as  became  his  character,  dis- 
creetly and  with  deliberation.     It  was  not  a  hasty  passion,  but  :i 

sober  preference  founded  on  esteem,  and  accordingly  instead  of 
plunging  at  once  into  the  connexion,  he  merely  resolved,  in  hi> 
heart,  that  at  some  future  time  he  would  retire  from  the  hosiery 
line,  and  take  to  one  of  gut,  horsehair,  or  silk. 

In  pursuanc  i  of  this  scheme,  whilst  he  steadily  amassed  the 
necessary  competence,  he  quietly  accumulated  the  other  requi- 
sites ;  from  time  to  time  investing  a  few  more  hundreds  in  the 
funds,  and  occasionally  adding  a  fresh  article  to  his  tackle,  or  a 
new  guide,  or  treatise  to  his  books  on  the  art.  Into  these  vo- 
lumes, at  his  leisure,  he  dipped,  gradually  storing  his  mind  with 
the  piscatory  rules,  "  line  upon  line,  and  precept  upon  precept," 
till  in  theory  he  was  a  respectable  proficient.  And  in  his  Sunday 
walks,  he  commonly  sought  the  banks  of  one  or  other  of  our 
Middlesex  rivers,  where,  glancing  at  sky  and  water,  with  a  specu- 
lative eye,  he  would  whisper  to  himself — "  a  fine  day  for  the 
perch,"  or  "  a  likely  hole  for  a  chubb;"  but  from  all  actual  prac- 
tise he  religiously  abstained,  carefully  hoarding  it  up,  like  his 
money,  at  compound  interest,  for  that  delicious  Otium-and-Water, 
which,  sooner  or  later,  Hope  promised  he  sould  enjoy. 

In  the  mean  time,  during  one  of  these  suburban  rambles,  he 
observed,  near  Enfield  Chase,  a  certain  row  of  snug  little  villas, 
each  with  its  own  garden,  and  its  own  share  of  the  New  River, 
which  flowed  between  the  said  pleasure  grounds  on  one  side,  and 
a  series  of  private  meadows  on  the  other.  The  houses,  indeed, 
were  in  pairs,  two  under  one  roof,  but  each  garden  was  divided 
from  the  next  one  by  an  evergreen  fence,  tall  and  thick  enough 


MR.  CHUBB.  185 

to  screen  the  proprietor  from  neighbourly  observation  ;  whilst  the 
absi  nee  of  any  public  footpath  along  the  fields  equally  secured 
the  residents  from  popular  curiosity.  A  great  consideration  with 
an  angler,  who,  near  the  metropolis,  is  too  liable  to  be  accosted 
by  some  confounded  hulking  fellow  with  "  what  sport, — how  do 
they  bite  ? " — or  annoyed  by  some  pestilent  little  boy,  who  will 
intrude  in  his  swim. 

"  Yes,  that's  the  place  for  me,"  thought  Mr.  Chubb,  especially 
alluding  to  a  green  lawn  which  extended  to  the  water's  edge — 
not  forgetting  a  tall  lignum  vitse  tree,  against  which,  seated  in  an 
ideal  arm  chair,  he  beheld  his  own  Eidolon,  in  the  very  act  of 
pulling  out  an  imaginary  fish,  as  big  and  bright  as  a  fresh  herring. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  place  for  me!"  muttered  Mr.  Chubb:  "so 
snug — so  retired — so  all  to  one's  self  !  Nobody  to  overlook,  no- 
thing to  interrupt  one  ! — No  towing-path — no  barges — no  tho- 
roughfare— Bless  my  soul!  it's  a  perfect  little  Paradise!" 

And  it  was  the  place  for  him  indeed — for  some  ten  years  after- 
Avards  the  occupant  died  suddenly  of  apoplexy — whereupon  Mr. 
Chubb  bought  the  property,  sold  off  his  business,  and  retiring  to 
the  villa,  which  he  christened  "Walton  Cottage,"  prepared  to 
realize  the  long  water- sou chyish  dream  of  his  middle  age. 

"  And  did  he  catch  any  thing  ? " 

My  dear  Miss  Hastie — do,  pray,  allow  the  poor  gentleman  a 
few  moments  to  remove,  and  settle  himself  in  his  new  abode,  and 
in  the  mean  while,  let  me  recommend  you  to  the  care  of  that 
allegorical  Job  in  petticoats,  who  is  popularly  supposed  to  recreate 
herself,  when  she  is  not  smiling  on  a  monument,  by  fishing  in  a 
punt. 


18tf  WHIMSICALITIES 

CHAPTEK  II. 

Eureka ! 

The  day,  the  happj  daj  is  come  al   last,  and  no  bride,  in  her 
pearl  silk  and  orang  .  after  a  protracted  courtship,  ever 

felt  a  more  blissful  flutter  of  spirits  than  Mr.  Chubb,  aa  in  a  bran 
n. >w  white  ket,  and  diab  legginj  ads  on  the 

margin  of  the  New  Rirer,  about  to  become  an  angler  for  better  or 
worse. 

The  morning  is  propitious.  The  skj  is  slightly  clouded,  and  a 
gentle  southerly  zephyr  just  breathes,  here  and  there,  on  the  graj 
water,  which  is  thickly  studded  with  little  dimples  that  dilate 
into  rings, — signs,  as  sure  as  those  in  the  zodiac,  of  Aquarius  and 
A  comfortable  arm-chair  is  planted  in  the  shadow  of  the 
tall  lignum  viti  .  lies  a  landing  net, 

and  on  the  left,  a  basket  big  enough  to  a  Salmon.     Mr. 

Chubb  stands  in  front  of  the  chair;  and  having  satisfied  his 
mind,  by  a  panoramic  glanee,  of  his  complete  solitude,  begins  pre- 
cipitately to  pre]  are  his  tackle,  by  drawing  the  strings  of  a  long 
brown  aolland  case  intoa  hard  double  knot.  But  he  is  too  happy 
i  i  swear,  bo  he  only  blesses  his  soul,  patiently  unravels  the  knot, 
and  complacently  allows  the  rod  to  glide  out  of  the  linen  cover. 
With  deliberate  care  he  fits  each  joint  in  its  socket, — from  the 
butt  glittering  with  bright  brasaj  to  the  tapering  top — and  then 
with  supple  wrist,  proves  the  beautiful  pliancy  of  the  "complete 
thing."  Next  from  the  black  leather  pocket  book  b 
line  of  exquisite  fineness,  and  attaches  it  by  the  loop  to  the  small 
brazen  wire  ring  at  the  point  of  the  whalebone.  The  fine  gut, 
still  retaining  its  angles  from  the  reel,  like  a  long  zigzag  of  gos- 
samer, vibrates  to  the  elastic  rod,  which   in  turn  quivers  to  the 


MR.  CHUBB.  187 

agitated  hand  tremulous  with  excitement.  But  what  ails  Mr. 
Chubb  ?  All  at  once  he  starts  off  into  the  strangest  and  wildest 
vagaries, — now  clutching  like  Macbeth  at  the  air  drawn  dagger, 
and  then  suddenly  wheeling  round  like  a  dog  trying  to  catch  his 
own  tail — now  snatching  at  some  invisible  blue  bottle  buzzing 
about  his  nose, — next  fle^-hunting  about  his  clothes,  and  then 
staring  skywards  with  goggle  eyes,  and  round  open  mouth,  as 
if  he  would  take  a  minnow !  A  few  bars  rest — and  off  he 
goes  again, — jumping, — spinning, — skipping  right  and  left — no 
urchin  striving  to  apprehend  Jack  O'Lantern  ever  cut  more 
capers. 

He  is  endeavouring  to  catch  his  line  that  he  may  bait  the 
hook ;  but  the  breeze  carries  it  far  a-field,  and  the  spring  of  the 
rod  jerks  it  to  and  fro,  here  and  there  and  every  where  but  into 
his  eager  hand.  Sometimes  the  shot  swing  into  his  eye,  some- 
times the  float  bounces  into  his  mouth  or  bobs  against  his  nose, 
and  then,  half  caught,  they  spring  up  perpendicularly,  and  fall 
down  again,  with  the  clatter  of  hail,  on  the  crown  of  his  white 
beaver.  At  last  he  succeeds — at  least  the  hook  anchors  in  the 
skirts  of  his  jacket.  But  he  is  in  too  good  humour  to  curse. 
Propping  the  rod  upright  against  the  tall  lignum  vitae,  he  applies 
both  hands  to  the  rescue,  and  has  just  released  the  hook  from  the 
fustian,  when  down  drops  the  rod,  with  a  terrible  lash  of  its  top- 
joint  in  the  startled  stream, — whilst  the  barbed  steel,  escaping 
from  his  right  finger  and  thumb,  flies  off  like  a  living  insect,  and 
fastens  its  sting  in  the  cuff  of  his  left  sleeve  with  such  good  will, 
that  it  must  be  cut  out  with  a  penknife.  Still  he  does  not  blas- 
pheme. At  some  damage  to  the  cloth,  the  Kirby  is  set  free — 
and  the  line  is  safe  in  hand.  A  little  more  cautiously  he  picks  up 
the  drioping  rod,  and  proceeds  to  bait  the  hook — not  without 


188  WHIMSICALITIES. 

difficulty  and  delay,  for  a  worm  is  a  wriggling  slippery  thing, 
with  :i  natural  aversion  to  being  lined  with  win-,  and  when  the 
fingers  are  tremulous  besides — the  job  is  ;i  Btiff  one.  Neverthe- 
e  contrives  ill  or  well,  to  impale  a  small  brandling;  bul  re- 
membering that  he  oughl  first  to  have  plumbed  the  d<  pth  of  the 
water,  removes  the  worm  and  Bubsikutes  a  roll  of  thin  lead. 
A-fterwards  he  adjusts  the  float  to  the  proper  soundings,  and  then 
there  is  all  the  wriggling  Blippery  nervous  process  to  be  gone 
through  over  agan.  But  Patience,  the  angler's  virtue,  still  sup- 
him.  The  hook  is  baited  once  more, —  he  draws  a  long 
,1  ■  ji  Bigh  of  satisfaction,  and  warily  poising  his  rod,  lets  the  virgin 
line  drop  gently  into  the  rippling  Btream  ! 

N,>w  then  all  is  righl !  Alas,  nol  The  float  instead  of  swim- 
ming erect,  sinks  down  on  it-  side  for  want  of  sufficient  ballast  ;  a 
trying  dilemma,  for  the  cure  requires  a  rather  delicate  operation. 
lu  fact,  six  split  shot  successiv(  h  from  his  trembling  lingers 

— a  seventh  he  succeeds  in  adjusting  to  the  line,  on  which  he 
rashly  att  smpts  to  close  the  gaping  lead  with  his  teeth;  but  un- 
luckily  hi-  incisors  slip  beside  the  leaden  pellet,  and  with  a  horrid 
cranch  go  clean  through  the  crisp  gat  ! 

Still  he  does  not  blaspheme  ;  but  blessing  his  body,  this  time, 
as  well  as  his  soul,  carefully  fits  a  new  bottom  on  the  Ene,  and 
the  cleft  shot  with  the  proper  instrument,  a  pair  of  pliers. 
Then  he  baits  again,  and  tries  the  float,  which  swims  with  the 
correct  cock — and  all  is  right  at  last!  The  dream-,  the  sch 
the  hopes,  the  wishes  of  a  dozen  long  years  are  realized ;  and  if 
there  be  a  little  pain  at  one  end  of  the  line,  what  enormous  plea- 
sure at  the  other ! 

Merrily  the  float  trips,  again  and  again,  from  end  to  end  of  the 
swim,  and  is  once  more  gliding  down  with  the  current,  when 


MR.  CHUBB.  189 

suddenly  the  quill  stops — slowly  revolves — bobs — bobs  again — 
and  dives  under  the  water. 

The  Angler  strikes  convulsively — extravagantly — insanely  ; 
and  something  swift  and  silvery  as  a  shooting  star,  flies  over  his 
head.  It  should,  by  rigbts,  be  a  fish — yet  there  is  none  on  his 
hook ;  but  searehing  farther  and  farther,  all  up  the  lawn,  there 
certainly  lies  something  bright  and  quivering  on  the  stone  step — 
something  living,  scaly,  and  about  an  inch  long — in  short,  Mr. 
Chubb's  first  bleak ! 


CHAPTER   III. 

Happy  Mr.  Chubb  !  Happy  on  Thursday,  happier  on  Friday, 
and  happier  on  Saturday  ! 

For  three  delightful  days  he  had  angled,  each  time  with  better 
success,  and  increasing  love  for  the  art,  when  Sunday  intervened 
— the  longest  dry  Sunday  he  had  ever  spent  in  his  life.  This 
short  fast,  however,  only  served  to  whet  his  appetite  for  the  sport, 
and  to  send  him  the  earlier  on  Monday  to  the  river's  edge,  not 
without  some  dim  superstitious  notion  of  catching  the  fine  hog- 
backed  perch  he  had  hooked  in  a  dream  over  night. 

By  this  time  practice  had  made  him  perfect  in  his  manipula- 
tions. His  rod  was  put  together  in  a  crack — the  line  attached 
to  it  in  a  jiffy,  the  hook  baited  in  a  twinkling,  and  all  ready  to 
begin.  But  first  he  took  his  customary  survey,  to  assure  him 
that  his  solitude  was  inviolate — that  there  was  no  eye  to  startle 
his  mauvaise  konte,  for  he  was  as  sensitive  to  observation,  as  some 
skins  to  new  flannel :  but  all  was  safe.  There  was  not  a  horse 
or  cow  even  to  stare  at  him  from  the  opposite  meadow — no  hu- 
man creature  within  ken,  to  censure  his  performance  or  criticise 


190  WHIMSIC  iLITJES. 

bis  appearance.     He  mighl  have  fished,  it'  he  had  pleated,  in  his 
night-cap,  dressing  gown,  and  slip]  • 

The  ineffable  value  of  such  a  privacy  is  only  appreciable  by 
Bhy,  sensitive  men,who  ride  hobbies.  But  Toby  Shandy  knew 
it  when  he  gave  a  peep  over  the  hom-beam  hedge  before  be  took 
a  first  whiff  of  the  ivory  pipe  attached  to  his  smoking  artillery. 
And  so  did  Mr.  Chubb,  as  after  a  preliminary  pinch  of  snuff,  and 
an  extatic  rob  of  his  hand-,  he  gently  Bwung  the  varnished  float, 
shotted  line,  and  baited  hook,  from  his  own  freehold  lawn,  into 
the  exclusive  water. 

The  weather  was  lovely,  the  Bky  of  an  unclouded  blue,  and 
the  whole  landscape  flooded  with  Bunshine,  which  would  have 
been  too  bright  but  that  a  westerly  breeze  Bwept  the  gloss  off  the 
river,  and  allowed  the  Angler  to  watch,  undazzled,  his  neat  tip- 
capped  float.  Thrice  the  buoyant  quill  had  travelled  from  end 
to  end  of  the  property,  and  was  midway  on  its  fourth  \- 
when — without  the  least  hint  of  bite  or  nibble — it  was  violently 
twitched  up,  and  left  to  dangle  in  the  air,  whilst  Mr.  Chubb  dis- 
tractedly stared  on  a  new  object  in  the  stream. 

A  strange  float  had  come  into  his  swim  ! 

And  such  a  float ! — A  great  green  and  white  pear-shaped 
thing — of  an  extra  size,  expressly  manufactured  for  the  most 
turbulent  waters ;  but  magnified  by  the  enormity  of  the  tresspass 
into  a  ship's  buoy  ! 

Yes — there  it  was  in  his  own  private  fishing-place,  down  which 
it  drifted  five  or  six  good  yards  before  it  brought  up,  on  its  side, 
when  the  force  of  the  current  driving  the  lower  part  of  the  line 
towards  the  surface,  disclosed  a  perfect  necklace  of  large  swan- 
shot,  and  the  shank  of  a  No.  1  hook,  baited  as  it  seemed,  with  a 
small  hard  dumpling ! 


MR.  CHUBB.  191 

Mr.  Chubb  was  petrified — Gorgonized — basilisked  !  His  heart 
and  his  legs  gave  way  together,  and  he  sank  into  the  elbow- 
chair  ;  his  jaw  locked,  his  eyes  protruding  in  a  fixed  stave,  and 
altogether  in  physiognomy  extremely  like  the  fish  called  a  Pope 
or  Ruff,  which,  on  being  hooked,  is  said  to  go  into  a  sort  of  spas- 
modic fit,  through  surprise  and  alarm. 

However,  disappointment  and  vexation  gradually  gave  way  to 
indignation,  and  planting  the  chair  against  the  evergreen  hedge, 
he  mounted  on  the  seat,  with  a  brace  of  objurgations  on  his  lips — 
the  one  adapted  to  a  great  hulking  fellow,  the  other  for  an  infer- 
nal little  boy ;  but  before  either  found  vent,  down  he  scrambled 
again,  with  breakneck  precipitation,  and  dropped  into  the  seat. 
To  swear  was  impossible — to  threaten  or  vituperate  quite  out  of 
the  question,  or  even  to  remonstrate.  He  who  had  not  the  cour- 
age to  be  polite  to  a  lady,  to  be  rude  or  harsh  to  one  ? — never. 
What  then  could  he  do  ?  Nothing,  but  sit  staring  at  the  great 
green  and  white  float,  as  it  lay  on  its  side,  making  a  fussy  ripple 
in  the  water,  till  she  chose  to  withdraw  it. 

At  last,  after  a  very  tedious  interval,  the  obnoxious  object  sud- 
denly began  to  scud  up  the  stream,  and  then  rising,  with  almost 
as  much  splutter  as  a  wild  duck,  flew  into  the  neighbouring  gar- 
den. The  swanshot  and  the  hook  flew  after  it,  but  the  little 
dumpling,  parting  asunder,  had  escaped  from  the  steel,  and  the 
halves  separately  drifted  down  the  current,  each  nibbled  at  by  its 
own  circle  of  New  River  bleak. 

Mr.  Chubb  waited  a  minute,  and  then  fell  to  angling  again ; 
but  as  silently,  stealthily,  and  sneakingly,  as  if  instead  of  fishing 
in  his  own  waters  he  had  been  poaching  in  those  of  Cashiobury — 
"  Because  Lord  Essex  wouldn't  give  him  leave." 

But  even  this  faint  enjoyment  was  short-lived.     All  at  once 


L92  WHIMSICALITIES. 

be  heard,  to  the  left,  a  plash  as  it'  a  bull-frog  or  water-rat  had 
plumped  into  the  river,  and  down  came  the  great  green  and 
white  nuisance,  again  dancing  past  the  private  he  waltz- 

ing with  <\v\  little  eddy  that  came  in  its  way.  Of  course  it 
would  Btop  at  jpot — but  no,  its  tether  had  b  en  indefi- 

nitely prolonged,  and  on  it  came,  bobbing  and  becking,  till  within 
a  fool  of  the  little  slim  tipcapped  quill  of  our  Fisherman.  Ho 
instantly  pulled  up,  but  too  late — the  bottoms  of  the  two  lines 
had  already  grappled.  There  was  a  hitch  and  then  a  jerk— the 
Bwanshot  with  a  centrifugal  impulse  wont  spinning  round  and 
round  the  oilier  tackle,  till  silk  and  gut  were  complicated  in  an 
inveterate  tangle.  The  Unknown,  feeling  the  resistance,  imme- 
diately struck,  an. I  began  to  haul  in.  The  perplexed  Baohelor, 
incapable  of  a  "  Hallo!"  only  blessed  his  own  bouI  in  a  whisper, 
and  opposed  a  faint  resistance.  The  strain  increased  ;  and  ho 
held  more  firmly,  desperately  hoping  that  his  own  line  would 
give  way  :  but,  instead  of  any  such  breakage,  as  if  instinct  with 
the  very  spirit  of  mischief,  the  top  joint  of  his  rod  suddenly 
sprang  out  of  its  socket,  and  went  living  as  .he  other  lithe-top 
seemed  to  beckon  it  into  her  garden  ! 

It  was  gone,  of  course,  for  ever.  As  to  applying  for  it,  little 
Smith  would  as  soon  have  asked  for  the  ball  that  he  had  pitched 
through  a  pane  of  plate  glass  into  Mrs.  Jones's  drawing-room. 

All  fishing  was  over  for  the  day ;  and  the  discomfitted  Angler 
was  about  to  unscrew  his  rod  and  pack  up,  when  a  loud  "  hem  ! " 
made  him  start  and  look  towards  the  sound — and  lo !  the  un- 
known Lady,  having  mounted  a  chair  of  her  own,  was  looking 
over  the  evergreen  hedge  and  holding  out  the  truant  top  joint  to 
its  owner.  The  little  shy  bashful  Bachelor,  still  in  a  nervous 
agony,  would  fain  have  been  blind  to  this  civility ;  but  the  cough 


MR.  CHUBB  193 

became  too  importunate  to  be  shirked,  and  blushing  till  his  very- 
hair  and  whiskers  seemed  to  redden  into  carotty,  he  contrived  to 
stumble  up  to  the  fence  and  stammer  out  a  jumble  of  thanks  and 
apologies. 

"  Reallv  ma'am — I'm  extremely  sorry — you're  too  good — so 
very  awkward — quite  distressing — I'm  exceedingly  obliged,  I'm 
sure — very  warm  indeed," — and  seizing  the  top-joint  he  attempted 
to  retreat  with  it,  but  he  was  not  to  escape  so  easily. 

"  Stop,  sir ! "  cried  one  of  the  sweetest  voices  in  the  world, 
"  the  lines  are  entangled." 

"  Pray  don't  mention  it,"  said  the  agitated  Mr.  Chubb,  vainly 
fumbling  in  the  wrong  waistcoat  pocket  for  his  penknife.  "  I'll 
cut  it,  ma'am — I'll  bite  it  off." 

"  Oh,  pray,  don't !  "exclaimed  the  lady  ;  "  it  would  be  a  sin  and 
a  shame  to  spoil  such  a  beautiful  line.  Pray  what  do  you  call 
it?" 

What  an  unlucky  question.  For  the  whole  world  Mr.  Chubb 
would  not  have  named  the  material — which  he  at  last  contrived 
to  describe  as  "  a  very  fine  sort  of  fiddlestring." 

"  Oh,  I  understand,"  said  the  Lady.  "  How  flue  it  is — and  yet 
how  strong.  What  a  pity  it  is  in  such  a  tangle !  But  I  think 
with  a  little  time  and  patience  I  can  unravel  it !" 

"  Really,  ma'am,  I'm  quite  ashamed — so  much  trouble — allow 
me,  ma'am."  And  the  little  Bachelor  climbed  up  into  his  elbow- 
chair,  where  he  stood  tottering  with  agitation,  and  as  red  in  the 
face,  and  as  hot  all  over,  as  a  boiling  lobster. 

"  I  think,  sir,"  suggested  the  Lady,  "  if  you  would  just  havo 

the  goodness  to  hold  these  loops  open  while  I  pass  the  other  line 

through  them — " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  yes — exactly — by  all  means — "  and  he  endear- 
9 


194:  WHIMSICALITIES. 

cured  to  follow  her  instructions,  by  plunging  the  short  thick  fin 
gers  of  each  hand  into  the  hank;  the  Lady  mean  while  poking- 
her  float,  like  a  shuttle,  up  and  down,  to  and  fro,  through  the  in- 
tricaci  a  of  the  tangled  lii 

"Bless  my  soul!"  thought  Mr.  Chubb,  "what  a  singular  situa- 
tion !  A  lady  I  never  saw  before — a  perfect  stranger ! — and  here 
lam  face  to  face  with  her — across  a  hedge — with  our  fingers 
twisting  in  and  outof  the  same  line,  as  it*  we  were  playing  at  cat'a- 
cradle  !" 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"Heyday!  It  is  a  long  job!"  exclaimed  the  Lady,  with  a 
gentle  sigh. 

"It  is  indeed,  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  with  a  puff  of  breath 
as  if  he  had  been  holding  it  the  whole  time  of  the  operation. 

"  My  fingers  quite  ache,"  said  the  Lady. 

"I'm  sure — I'm  very  sorry — I  beg  them  a  thousand  pardons," 
said  Mr.  Chubb,  with  a  bow  to  the  hand  before  him.  And  what 
a  hand  it  was  !  So  white  and  so  plump,  with  little  dimples  on 
the  knuckles, — and  then  such  long  taper  fingers,  and  filbert-like 
nails ! 

"Are  you  fond  of  fishing,  sir  ?"  asked  the  Lady,  with  a  full  look 
in  his  face  for  the  answer. 

"  O,  very,  ma'am — very  partial  indeed  !" 

"  So  am  I,  sir.  It's  a  taste  derived,  I  believe,  from  my  read- 
ing." 

"  Then  mayhap,  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  his  voice  quavering 
at  his  own  boldness,  "  if  it  isn't  too  great  a  liberty — you  have  read 
the  '  Complete  Angler  ?' " 


MR.  CHUBB.  195 

"  What,  Izaak  Walton's  ?  O,  I  dote  on  it !  The  nice,  dear  old 
man  !     So  pious,  and  so  sentimental !" 

"  Certainly,  ma'am — as  you  observe — and  so  uncommonly 
skilful." 

"  0  !  and  so  natural !  and  so  rural*!  Such  sweet  green  mead- 
ows, with  honeysuckle  hedges;  and  the  birds,  and  the  inno- 
cent lambs,  and  the  cows,  and  that  pretty  song  of  the  milk- 
maid's !" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  rather  hastily,  as  if  afraid 
she  would  quote  it ;  and  blushing  up  to  his  crown,  as  though  she 
had  actually  invited  him  to  "  live  with  her  and  be  her  love." 

"  There  was  an  answer  written  to  it,  I  believe,  by  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  ?" 

"There  was,  ma'am — or  Sir  Walter  Scott — I  really  forget 
which,"  stammered  the  bewildered  Bachelor,  with  whom  the 
present  tense  had  completely  obliterated  the  past.  As  to  the  fu- 
ture, nothing  it  might  produce  would  surprise  him. 

"  Now,  then,  sir,  we  will  try  again  !"  And  the  Lady  resumed 
her  task,  in  which  Mr.  Chubb  assisted  her  so  effectually,  that  at 
length  one  line  obtained  its  liberty,  and  by  a  spring  so  sudden,  as 
to  excite  a  faint  scream. 

"  Gracious  powers  !"  exclaimed  the  horrified  little  man,  almost 
falling  from  his  chair,  and  clasping  his  hands. 

"  I  thought  the  hook  was  in  my  eye,"  said  the  Lady  ;  "  but  it 
is  only  in  my  hair."  From  which  she  forthwith  endeavoured  to 
disentangle  it,  but  with  so  little  success,  that  in  common  polite- 
ness Mr.  Chubb  felt  bound  to  tender  his  assistance.  It  was 
gratefully  accepted;  and  in  a  moment  the  most  bashful  of 
bachelors  found  himself  in  a  more  singular  position  than  ever — 
namely,  with  his  short  thick  fingers  entwined  with   a  braid  of 


196  WHIMSICALITIES. 

the  gl  inest,  softest  auburn  hair  thai  ever  grew  on  a  female 

b  sad. 

" Bless  my  soul  and  bodyl"  Baid  Mr.  Chubb  to  himself;  "tba 
job  with  the  gut  aud  silk  lines  was  nothing  to  this!" 


CHAPTER  \. 

That  wearisome  hpok  1  Itclungtothe  tress  in  which  it  had 
fastened  itself  with  lover-like  pertinacity!  In  the  mean  time  the 
.  to  favour  the  operation,  necessarily  inclined  her  head  a 
little  downwards  and  Bid  •  that  when  she  looked  at  Mr. 

b,  she  was  obligi  d  to  glance  at  him  from  the  corners  of  her 
eyes — as  coquettish  a  ]«'>it;<  >n  as  female  artifice,  in-trad  of  acci- 
dent, could  have  produced.  Nothing,  indeed,  could  he  more 
bewitching!  Nothing  so  disconcerting!  It  was  a  wonder  the 
short  thick  fingers  ever  brought  their  task  to  an  end,  they  rumbled 
so  abominably — the  poor  man  forgot  what  he  was  about  so  fre- 
quently! At  last  the  soft  glossy  braid,  sadly  disarranged, 
dropped  again  on  the  fair  smooth  cheek. 

"Is  the  hook  out?"  asked  tin'  Lady. 

"It  is,  ma'am — thank  God!"  replied  the  little  Bachelor,  with 
extraordinary  emphasis  and  fervour;  hut  the  next  moment  making 
a  grimace  widely  at  variance  with  the  implied  pleasure. 

"Why  it's  in  your  own  thumb'."  screamed  the  Lady,  forget- 
ting in  her  fright  that  it  was  a  Strang-  gentleman's  hand  she 
caught  hold  of  so  unceremoniously. 

"  It's  nothing,  ma'am — don't  be  alarmed  ;  nothing  at  all — only 
— bless  my  soul, — how  very  ridiculous  ! " 

"  But  it  must  hurt  you,  sir." 

"  Not  at  all,  ma'am — quite  the  reverse.     I  don't  feel  it — I  don't, 


MR.  CHUBB.  197 

indeed ! — Merely  through,  the  skin,  ma'am, — and  if  I  could  only- 
get  at  my  penknife " 

"Where is  it,  sir?" 

"Stop,  ma'am — here — I've  got  it,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  his  heart 
beating  violently  at  the  mere  idea  of  the  long  taper  fingers  in  his 
left  waistcoat-pocket — "  But  unluckily  it's  my  right  hand  ! " 

"How  veiy  disfressing ! "  exclaimed  the  lady;  "and  all  through 
extricating  me ! " 

"  Don't  mention  it,  ma'am,  pray  don't — you're  perfectly  wel- 
come." 

"  If  I  thought,"  said  the  lady,  "  that  it  was  only  through  the 
skin — I  had  once  to  cut  one  out  for  poor  dear  Mr.  Hooker,"  and 
she  averted  her  head  as  if  to  hide  a  tear. 

"  She's  a  widow,  then ! "  thought  Mr.  Chubb  to  himself. 
"  But  what  does  that  signify  to  me — and  as  to  her  cutting  out  the 
hook,  it's  a  mere  act  of  common  charity." 

And  so,  no  doubt,  it  was ;  for  no  sooner  was  the  operation  per- 
formed, than  dropping  his  hand  as  if  it  had  been  a  stone,  or  a 
brick,  or  a  lump  of  clay,  she  restored  the  penknife,  and  cutting 
short  his  acknowledgments  with  a  grave  "  Good  morning,  sir," 
skipped  down  from  her  chair,  and  walked  off,  rod  in  hand,  to  her 
house. 

Mr.  Chubb  watched  her  till  she  disappeared,  and  then  getting 
down  from  his  own  chair,  took  a  seat  in  it,  and  fell  into  a  reverie, 
from  which  he  was  only  roused  by  putting  his  thumb  and  finger 
into  the  wrong  box,  and  feeling  a  pinch  of  gentles,  instead  of  snuff. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
The  next  day  Mr.  Chubb  angled  as  usual ;  but  with  abated 


198  WHIMSICALITIES. 

pleasure.     His  fishery  bad  1 □  disturbed;  his  Bolitude  invaded — ■ 

he  was  d  i  longer  Walton  and  Zimmerman  rolled  into  one.  From 
certain  prophetic  misgivings  h  had  even  abandoned  the  costume 
of  the  craft, — and  appeared  in  ;i  drees  more  Buited  to  a  public 
dinner  than  his  private  recreation — a  bin.'  coat  and  black  k< 
mere  trowsers — instead  of  the  fustian  jacket,  shorts,  and  leathern 
gaiters. 

The  weather  was  still  propitious,  but  he  could  neither  confine 
his  eye  to  his  quill  nor  bis  thoughts  to  die  pastime.  Every 
moment  he  expected  to  hear  the  splash  of  the  gnat  green  and 
white  float, — and  to  see  it  come  sailing  into  bis  swim.  But  he 
watched  and  listened  in  vain.  Nothing  drifted  down  with  the 
currenl  but  small  sticks  and  straus  or  a  stray  weed, — nothing 
disturbed  the  calm  surface  of  the  river,  except  the  bleak,  occasion- 
ally rising  at  a  fly.  A  furtive  glance  assured  him  that  uobody 
was  looking  at  him  over  the  a  fenoi — for  that  day,  at 

.  he  bad  the  fishery  all  to  himself,  and  he  was  beginning, 
heart  and  soul  to  enjoy  the  sport, — when,  from  up  the  stream,  b  • 
beard  a  startling  plunge,  enough  to  frighten  all  the  fish  up  to 
London  or  down  to  the  Ware  !  The  flop  of  the  great  green  and 
white  float  was  a  whisper  to  it — but  before  he  could  frame  a 
guess  at  the  cause,  a  ball  of  something,  as  big  as  his  own  head, 
plumped  into  his  swim,  with  a  splash  that  sent  up  the  water  into 
his  very  face!  The  next  moment  a  sweet  low  voice  called  to  him 
by  his  name. 

It  was  the  Widow!  He  knew  it  without  turning  his  head 
By  a  sort  of  mental  clairvoyance  be  saw  ber  distinctly  looking  at 
him,  with  her  soft  liquid  hazel  eyes,  over  the  privet  hedge.  He 
immediately  fixed  his  gaze  more  resolutely  on  his  float,  and  de- 
termined to  be  stone  deaf.     But  the  manoeuvre  was  of  no  avail. 


MR.  CHUBB.  199 

Another  ball  flew  bomb-like  through  the  air,  and  narrowly  miss- 
ing- his  rod,  dashed — saluting  him  with  a  fresh  sprinkle — into  the 
river  ! 

"  Bless  my  soul,"  thought  Mr.  Chubb,  carefully  laying  his  rod 
across  the  arms  of  his  elbow-chair,  "  when  shall  I  get  any 
fishing !" 

"  A  fine  morning,  Mr.  Chubb." 

"Very,  ma'am — very,  indeed — quite  remarkable,"  stammered 
Mr.  Chubb,  bowing  as  he  spoke,  plucking  off  his  hat,  and  taking 
two  or  three  unsteady  steps  towards  the  fence. 

"  -^y  gardener  has  made  me  some  ground  bait,  Mr.  Chubb, 
and  I  told  him  to  throw  the  surplus  towards  your  part  of  the 
river." 

"  You  're  very  good,  ma'am, — I'm  vastly  obliged  I'm  sure," 
said  the  little  Bachelor,  quite  overwhelmed  by  the  kindness,  and 
wiping  his  face  with  his  silk  handkerchief,  as  if  it  had  just  re- 
ceived the  favour  of  another  sprinkle.  "  Charming  weather, 
ma'am !" 

"  Oh,  delightful ! — It's  quite  a  pleasure  to  be  out  of  doors. 
By-the-bye,  Mr.  Chubb,  I'm  thinking  of  strolling — do'  you  ever 
stroll,  sir?" 

"  Ever  what  ?"  asked  the  astounded  Mr.  Chubb,  his  blood  sud- 
denly boiling  up  to  Fever  Heat. 

"  For  jack  and  pike,  sir — I've  just  been  reading  about  it  in  the 
Complete  Angler." 

"  0,  she  means  trolling"  thought  Mr.  Chubb,  his  blood  as 
rapidly  cooling  down  to  temperate.  "-Why,  no,  ma'am — no. 
The  truth  is, — asking  your  pardon, — there  are  no  jack  or  pike,  I 
believe,  in  this  water." 

"  Indeed  !     That's  a  pity.     And  yet,  after  all,  I  don't  think  I 


200  WHIMSICALITIES. 

could  put  the  poor  frog  on  the   hoot — and  then  sew  up   his 
mouth, — I'm  sure  I  couldn't !" 

"Of  course  not,  ma'am — of  con  Bache- 

lor, with   unusual    warmth  of  manner, — "You  have  too  much 
sensibility." 

"  Do  you  think,  then,  sir,  that  angling  is  en 

"  Why  really,  ma'am" — but  the  poor  man  had  entangled  him- 
self in  a  dilemma,  and  could  gel  no  farther. 

"Some  persons  say  it  is,:'  continued  the  Lady, — "and  really  to 
think  of  the  agonies  of  the  poor  worm  on  the  hook — hut  for  my 
part  I  always  fish  with  paste." 

"Yes— I  know  it,"  thought  Mr.  Chubb,— «  with  a  little  hard 
dumpling." 

"  And  then  it  is  so  much  cleaner,"   said  the  lady. 

"Certainly,  ma'am,  certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Chubb,  with  a  par- 
ticular reference  to  a  certain  very  white-  hand  with  long  taper 
fingers!  "  Nothing  like  paste,  ma'am — or  a  fly — if  it  was  u  t  a 
liberty,  ma'am,  I  should  think   you  would  prefer  an  artificial  fly." 

"An  artificial  one  ! — 0,  of  all  things  in  the  world  !"  exclaimed 
the  Lady  with  great  animation.  "  That  cannot  feel  ! — Bui  then" 
— and  she  shook  her  beautiful  bead  despondingly — "  they  are  so 
bard  to  make.  I  have  read  the  rules  for  artificial  flies  in  the 
book, — and  what  with  badger's  hair,  and  cock's  cackles  (she 
meant  hackles,)  and  whipping  your  shanks  (she  meant  the 
books,)  and  then  dubbing  your  fur  (she  meant  drubbing  with 
fur,)  0,  I  never  could  do  it !" 

Mr.  Chubb  was  silent.  He  bad  artificial  flies  in  his 
pocket-book,  and  yearned  to  offer  one — but,  deterred  by  cer- 
tain recollections,  be  shrank  from  the  task  of  affixing  it  to  her 
line.     And  yet  to  oblige  a  lady — and  such  a  fine  woman  too — 


MR.  CHUBB.  201 

and  besides  the  light  fall  of  a  fly  on  the  water  would  be  so  much 
better  than  the  flopping  of  that  abominable  great  green  and  white 
float ! — Yes,  he  would  make  the  offer  of  it,  and  he  did.  It  was 
graciously  accepted, — the  rod  was  handed  over  the  hedge,  and 
the  little  Bachelor, — at  a  safe  distance, — took  off,  with  secret 
satisfaction,  the  silk  line,  its  great  green  and  white  float,  its  swanshot, 
the  jSTo.  1  hook  and  its  little  hard  dumpling.  He  then  substi- 
tuted a  fine  fly-line,  with  a  small  black  ant-fly,  and  when  all  was 
ready,  presented  the  apparatus  to  the  lovely  Widow,  who  was 
profuse  in  her  acknowledgments.  "  There  never  was  such  a 
beautiful  fly,"  she  said,  "  but  the  difficulty  was  how  to  throw  it. 
She  was  only  a  Tryo  (she  meant  a  Tyro,)  and  as  such  must 
throw  herself  on  his  neighbourly  kindness,  for  a  little  instruction." 

This  information,  as  well  as  he  could  by  precept  and  example, 
with  a  hedge  between,  the  little  Bachelor  contrived  to  give  ;  and 
then  dismissed  his  fair  pupil  to  whip  for  bleak ;  whilst  with  an 
mternal  "  Thank  Heaven !"  he  resumed  his  own  apparatus,  and 
began  to  angle  for  perch,  roach,  dace,  gudgeons, — or  any  thing 
else. 

But  his  gratitude  was  premature — his  float  had  barely  com- 
pleted two  turns,  when  he  heard  himself  hailed  again  from  the 
privet  hedge. 

"Mr.  Chubb!  Mr.  Chubb!" 

"At  your  service,  ma'am." 

"  Mi\  Chubb,  you  will  think  me  shockingly  awkward,  but  I've 
switched  off  the  fly, — your  beautiful  fly, — somewhere  among  the 
evergreens." 

Slowly  the  Angler  pulled  up  his  line — at  the  sacrifice  of  what 

seemed  a  very  promising  nibble — and  carefully  deposited  his  rod 

again  across  the  arms  of  the  elbow  chair. 
9* 


202  WHIMSICALITIES. 

"Bless  my  soul  and  body!"  muttered  Mr.  Chubb,  as  bo  se- 
lected anuther  fly  from  bis  pocket-book, — "  when  shall  I  ever  get 
any  fishing !" 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Poor  Mr.  Chubb ! 

How  little  he  dreamt — in  all  his  twelve  years  dreaming,  of  i 
retiringfrom  trade  into  such  a  j in -tty  business  as  that  in  which  he 
found  himself  involved  !  How  little  be  thought,  whilst  studying 
the  instructive  dialogues  of  Venator  and  Viator  with  Piscator,  that 
he  should  ever  have  a  pupil  in  petticoats  hanging  on  his  own  lips 
foi  lessons  in  the  gentle  art!  Nor  was  it  seldom  that  she  re- 
quired his  counsel  or  assistance.  Scarcely  had  his  own  line 
1  in  the  water,  when  he  was  summoned  by  an  irresistible 
voice  to  the  evergreen  fence,  and  requested  to  perform  some  trivial 
office  for  a  fair  Neophyte,  with  the  prettiest  white  hand,  the  soft- 
est hazel  eyes,  and  the  silkiest  auburn  hair  he  had  ever  seen. 
Sometimes  it  was  to  put  a  bait  on  her  hook — sometimes  to  take 
off  a  fish — now  to  rectify  her  float — and  now  to  screw  or  unscrew 
her  rod.  Not  a  day  passed  but  the  little  Bachelor  found  himself 
tete  a  t'ete  with  the  lovely  'Widow,  across  the  privet  hedge. 

Little  he  thought,  the  while,  that  she  was  fishing  for  him,  and 
that  he  was  pouching  the  bait !  But  so  it  was : — for  exactly  six 
■weeks  from  the  day  when  Mr.  Chubb  caught  his  first  Bleak — Mrs. 
Hooker  beheld  at  her  feet  her  first  Chubb ! 

"What  she  did  with  him  needs  not  to  be  told.  Of  course  she 
did  not  give  him  away,  like  Venator's  chub,  to  some  poor  body  ; 
or  baste  him,  as  Piscator  recommends,  with  vinegar  or  verjuice. 
The  probability  is  that  she  blushed,  smiled,  and  gave  him  her 


A  VERY  SO-SO  CHARACTER.  203 

hand ;  for  if  you  walk,  Gentle  Reader,  to  Enfield,  and  inquire 
concerning  a  certain  row  of  snug  little  villas,  with,  pleasure-grounds 
bounded  by  the  New  River,  you  will  learn  that  two  of  the  houses, 
and  two  of  the  gardens,  and  two  of  the  proprietors  have  been 
"  thrown  into  one." 

"And  did  they  fish  together,  sir,  after  their  marriage  ?"  Never ! 
Mr.  Chubb,  indeed,  often  angled  from  morning  till  night,  but 
Mrs.  C.  never  wetted  a  line  from  one  year's  end  to  another. 


"  I  take  it  for  granted,"  said  Mrs.  Wiggins,  inquiring  as  to  the 
character  of  a  certain  humble  companion,  "  that  she  is  temperate, 
conversible,  and  willing  to  make  herself  agreeable  ? '' 

"  Quite,"  replied  Mrs.  Figgins,  "  Indeed,  I  never  knew  a  young 
person  so  sober,  so  sociable,  and  so  solicitous  to  please." 


204 


&f  i  g  x  fl  « . 


THE      SUl'EKIOKIIY     OF     MACHINERY. 

A  Mechanic  his  labour  will  ofteD  discard 

If  the  rate  of  his  pay  he  dislikes; 
But  a  clock — and  its  case  is  uncommonly  hard — 

Will  continue  to  work  though  it  strikes. 


%  (Cnstnm-iBintsr   Smjt. 

One  day — no  matter  for  the  month  or  year, 

A  Calais  packet,  just  come  over, 
And  safely  moor'd  within  the  pier. 

Began  to  land  her  passengers  at  Dover ; 
All  glad  to  end  a  voyage  long  and  rough, 
And  during  which, 
Through  roll  and  pitch, 
The  Ocean-King  had  stefcophants  enough  ! 

Away,  as  fast  as  they  could  walk  or  run, 
Eager  for  steady  rooms  and  quiet  meals, 
With  bundles,  bags,  and  boxes  at  their  heels, 

Away  the  passengers  all  went,  but  one, 

A  female,  who  from  some  mysterious  check, 
Still  linger'd  on  the  steamer's  deck, 

As  if  she  did  not  care  for  land  a  tittle, 

For  horizontal  rooms,  and  cleanly  victual — 
Or  nervously  afraid  to  put 
Her  foot 

Into  an  Isle  described  as  "  tight  and  little." 


A  CUSTOM-HOUSE  BREEZE.  205 


In  vain  commissioner  and  touter, 
Porter  and  waiter  throng'd  about  her ; 
Boring-,  as  such  officials  only  bore — 

In  spite  of  rope  and  barrow,  knot,  and  truck, 
Of  plank  and  ladder,  there  she  stuck, 
She  couldn't,  no  she  wouldn't  go  on  shore. 

"  But,  ma'am,"  the  steward  interfered, 
"  The  wessel  must  be  cleared. 
You  musn't  stay  aboard,  ma'am,  no  one  don't! 
It's  quite  agin  the  orders  so  to  do — 
And  all  the  passengers  is  gone  but  you." 
Says  she,  "  I  cannot  go  ashore  and  won't !  " 
"  You  ought  to  ! " 
"  But  I  can't ! " 
"  You  must ! " 
"I  shan't!" 

At  last,  attracted  by  the  racket 
'Twixt  gown  and  jacket, 

The  captain  came  himself,  and  cap  in  hand, 

Begg'd  very  civilly  to  understand 
Wherefore  the  lady  could  not  leave  the  packet. 

"  Why  then,"  the  lady  whispered  with  a  shiver, 
That  made  the  accents  quiver, 

"  I've  got  some  foreign  silks  about  me  pinn'd, 
In  short  so  many  things,  all  contraband, 
To  tell  the  truth  I  am  afraid  to  land, 

In  such  a  searching  wind ! " 


206 


gnha  mi  Il;nlt5{irnrf. 

It  is  singular  thai  none  of  the  commentators  on  "The  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor"  have  hitherto  attributed  to  Sir  John  FaUtaff 
a  tampering  with  the  Black  An  of  Magic.  There  are  a1  least  as 
plausible  grounds  for  such  a  supposition,  as  for  some  of  the  most 
elaborate  of  their  conjectures,  for  not  only  does  the  Fat  Knight 
undertake  to  personat<-  thai  Witch  the  Wise  Woman  of  Brentford, 
but  he  expressly  hints  to  ns  that  he  himself  was  a  Wizard,  and 
popularly  known  as  -.lack  with  his  familiars." 

A  proof  of  the  antiquity  of  the  practice  of  letting  lodgings,  or 
offices  for  merchants  and  lawyers,  has  been  equally  overlooked  by 
the  Annotators.  It  occurs,  indeed,  more  than  once,  and  in  words 
that  might  serve  for  a  hill  in  a  modern  window — namely,  "  Cham- 
bers let  of:' 

NOTE  ON  "  KING  JOHN."' 

Prince  Arthur. — Must  you  with  hut  irons  burn  out  both  my  < 
Hubert. — Young  boy,  I  must. 

In  the  barbarous  cruelty  proposed  to  be  practised  on  Prince 
Arthur  there  appears  to  be  some  coincidence  with  a  theory 
brought  forward  of  late  years,  in  reference  to  the  Hanoverian  Heir- 
Apparent;  namely  that  by  the  ancient  laws  of  Germany  the 
sovereignty  could  not  be  exercised  by  a  person  deprived  of  the 
sense  of  sight.  Although  "death"  was  indicated  by  the  royal 
uncle  in  his  conference  with  Hubert,  it  would  seem  as  if  John, 
shrinking  from  the  guilt  of  actual  murder,  had  subsequently  con- 


NOTES  ON  SHAKSPEARE- 


207 


tented  himself  with  ordering  that  the  young  "  serpent  on  his  path" 
should  be  rendered  incapable  of  reigning  by  the  loss  of  his  eyes. 
It  was  a  particular  act,  intended  for  an  especial  purpose,  expressly 
commanded  by  warrant,  and  Hubert  was  "  sworn  to  do  it." 

Supposing,  therefore,  that  the  intention  was  simply  to  blind  the 
victim,  to  disable  him  from  the  throne,  not  to  inflict  unnecessary 
torture,  or  endanger  life,  it  is  humbly  suggested  to  future  painters 
and  stage-managers,  that  the  inhuman  deed  would  not  have  been 
performed  with  great  clumsy  instruments  like  plumber's  irons,  but 
more  probably  with  heated  metal  skewers  or  bodkins,  as  the  eyes 
of  singing  birds  have  been  destroyed  by  fanciers — though  for  a 
different  reason — with  red-hot  knitting-needles. 


'my   eyes!   there's    a    mouse!' 


20S 


,i>  i  iu   1  n rum u r\ . 


"  I'll  have-  live  hundred  voices  of  that  sound." 

CORIOLANUB. 


A  few  days  since  while  passing  along  the  Strand,  near  Exeter 
Hall,  my  tar  was  suddenly  startled  by  a  burst  of  sound  from  the 
interior  of  that  building: — a  noise  which,  according  to  a  by- 
stander, proceeded  from  the  "  calling  out  of  the  vocal  Militia." 


ni'tLAii-cun  0 . 


NEW  HARMONY.  209 

This  explanation  rather  exciting  than  allaying  my  curiosity, 
induced  me  to  make  further  inquiries  into  the  matter ;  when  it 
appeared  that  the  Educational  Committee  had  built  a  plan,  on  a 
German  foundation,  for  the  instruction  of  the  middle  and  lowet 
orders  in  Music,  and  that  a  Mr.  Hullah  was  then  encased  in  drill 
ing  one  of  the  classes  in  singing. 

As  an  advocate  for  the  innocent  amusement  of  the  lower  classes, 
and  the  people  in  general,  the  news  gave  me  no  small  pleasure ; 
and  even  the  distant  chorus  gratified  myvear  more  than  a  critical 
organ  ought  to  have  been  pleased  by  the  imperfect  blending  of  a 
number  of  unpractised  voices  of  very  various  qualities,  and  as  yet 
not  quite  so  tuneable  as  the  hounds  of  Theseus  in  giving  tongue. 
Indeed,  one  or  two  voices  seemed  also  to  be  "  out  of  their  time  " 
in  the  very  beginning  of  their  apprenticeship.     But  to  a  patriotic 
mind,  there  Avas  a  moral  sweetness  in  the  music  that  fully  atoned 
for  any  vocal  irregularities,  and  would  have  reconciled  me  even  to 
an  orchestra  of  Dutch  Nightingales.     To  explain  this  feeling,  it 
must  be  remembered  that  no  Administration  but  one  which  in- 
tended to  be  popular  and  paternal,  would  ever  think  of  thus  en- 
couraging the  exercise  of  the  Vox  Populi ;  and  especially  of  teach- 
ing the  million  to  lift  up  their  voices  in  concert,  for  want  of  Avhich, 
and  through  discordances  amongst  themselves,  their  political  cho- 
ruses have  hitherto  been  so  ineffective.     It  was  evident  therefore, 
that  our  Rulers  seriously  intended,  not  merely  to  imbue  the  people 
with  musical  knowledge,  but  also  to  give  them  good  cause  to  sing, 
— and  of  course  hoped  to  lend  their  own  ministerial  ears  to  songs 
and  ballads  very  different  from  the  satirical  chansons  that  are 
chanted  on  the  other  side  of  the  English  Channel.     In  short,  we 
are  all  to  be  as  merry  and  as  tuneful  as  Larks,  and  to  enjoy  a 
Political  and  Musical  Millenium ! 


210 


WHIMSICALITIES. 


This  idea  so  transported  me,  that  like  a  grateful  canary  I  in- 
continently burst  into  a  full-throated  song,  and  with  such  thrills 
and  flourishes  as  recurred  to  me,  commenced  a  Bravura,  which  in 
a  few  minutes  might  have  attracted  an  audience  more  numerous 
than  select,  if  my  performance  had  not  been  checked  in  its  very 
preludium  by  an  occurrence  peculiarly  characteristic  of  a  London 
street.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  abrupt  putting  to  me  of  a  question, 
which  some  pert  cockney  of  the  Poultry  first  addressed  to  the 
unfledijvd. 


"does   your   mother   know   you're   out?' 


211 


€)ft  33nffitst  3Situ  in  <0ugUiti 

A    SKETCH    ON   THE    ROAD. 


"  It  is  the  Soul  that  sees  ;  the  outward  eyes 
Present  the  object ;  but  the  Mind  descrys, 
And  thence  delight,  disgust,  and  cool  indifference  rise." 

Craebe. 


"  A  charming  morning,  sir,"  remarked  my  only  fellow-pas- 
senger in  the  Comet,  as  soon  as  I  had  settled  myself  in  the  op- 
posite corner  of  the  coach. 

As  a  matter  cf  course  and  courtesy  I  assented  ;  though  I  had 
certainly  seen  better  days.  It  did  not  rain  ;  but  the  weather 
was  gloomy,  and  the  air  felt  raw,  as  it  well  might  with  a  pale 
dim  sun  overhead,  that  seemed  to  have  lost  all  power  of  roasting. 

"  Quite  an  Italian  Sky,"  added  the  Stranger,  looking  up  at  a 
sort  of  French  gray  coverlet  that  would  have  given  a  Neapolitan 
fancy  the  ague. 

However,  I  acquiesced  again,  but  was  obliged  to  protest 
against  the  letting  down  of  both  windows  in  order  to  admit 
what  was  called  the  "  fresh  invigorating  breeze  from  the  Surrey 
Hills." 

To  atone  for  this  objection,  however,  I  agreed  that  the  coach 
was  the  best,  easiest,  safest,  and  fastest  in  England,  and  the  road 
the  most  picturesque  out  of  London.  Complaisance  apart,  we 
were  passing  between  two  vegetable  screens,  of  a  colour  con- 
verted by  dust  to  a  really  "  invisible  green,"  and  so  high,  that 
they  excluded  any  prospect  as  effectually  as  if  they  had  been 


212  whims ic  ILITIES 

.'an  blinds.    Tl  uat<  h,  ,1  die  • 

■  n. 
I 
'•  I 

Thej  are   ;  eculiar  to  the 
r/hly  cultivated  bland.     You  may  t 
Constantinople  a  a  Bimilar 

I  bave  undersl 
ict,  air :  they  are  unique.     And  yonder  is  another 
picture  unparalleled,  I  may  Bay,  in  continental  Europe     a  mea- 
dow of  rich  pasture,  enamelled  with  the  ind  and  a 
multiplicity  of  buttercups  '." 

The  '  the  phraseology  ma. I-  me  look  curiously  at  the 

Bpeaker.     A  pastoral  poet,  thought  I — but  no — be  was  too  plump 
.  •  .  belong  to  thai  famishi  ad  in  his  dress, 

as  well  as  his  person,  had  every  appearance  of  a  man  well  to  do  in 
the  world.  He  was  more  probably  a  gentleman  farmer,  an  ad- 
mirer of  tin"  grazing-land,  and  perl  in  a  well  dn  bb- 
ed  paddock  and  genteel  haystack  of  his  own.  But  I  did  him 
injustice,  or  rath  — which  i  -  exclusive — fur 
the  next  Bcene  to  which  he  invited  my  attention,  was  of  a  totally 
different  charact  r — a  vast,  bleak,  Bcurvy-looking  common,  too 
barren  to  afford  even  a  picking  to  any  living  creatures,  except  a 
few  crows.  The  view,  however,  elicited  a  note  of  admiration 
from  my  companion  : 

'•What  an  extensive  pi  Genuine,  uncultivated  nature 

— and  studded  with  rook-  '." 

The  stranger  had  now  furnished  me  with  a  clew  to  his  charac- 
ter ;  which  he  afterwards  more  amusingly  unravelled.     He  was 


THE  HAPPIEST  MAN  IN  ENGLAND.  213 

an  Optimist  ; — one  of  those  blessed  beings  (for  they  are  blessed) 
who  think  that  whatever  is,  is  beautiful  as  well  as  right : — prac- 
tical philosophers  who  make  the  best  of  everything  ;  imaginative 
painters,  who  draw  each  object  en  beau,  and  deal  plentifully  in 
couleur  de  rose.  And  they  are  right.  To  be  good — in  spite  of  all 
the  old  story-books,  and  all  their  old  morals, — is  not  to  be  happy. 
Still  less  does  it  result  from  Rank,  Power,  Learning,  or  Riches  ; 
from  the  single  state  or  a  double  one,  or  even  from  good  health 
or  a  clean  conscience.  The  source  of  felicity,  as  the  poet  truly 
declares,  is  in  the  Mind — for  like  my  fellow-traveller,  the  man 
who  has  a  mind  to  be  happy  will  be  so,  on  the  plainest  com- 
mons that  nature  can  set  before  him — with  or  without  the  rooks. 

The  reader  of  Crabbe  will  remember  how  graphically  he  has 
described,  in  his  "  Lover's  Journey,"  the  different  aspects  of  the 
same  landscape  to  the  same  individual,  under  different  moods — 
on  Lis  outward  road,  an  Optimist,  like  my  fellow-traveller,  but  on 
his  return  a  malcontent  like  myself. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  coach  stopped — and  opposite  to  what 
many  a  person,  if  seated  in  one  of  its  right-hand  corners,  would 
have  considered  a  very  bad  look  out, — a  muddy  square  space, 
bounded  on  three  sides  by  plain  brick  stabling  and  wooden  barns, 
with  a  dwarf  wall  and  a  gate,  for  a  foreground  to  the  picture. 
In  fact,  a  strawyard,  but  untenanted  by  any  live  stock,  as  if  an 
Owenite  plan  amongst  the  brute  creation,  for  living  in  a  social 
parallelogram,  had  been  abandoned.  There  seemed  no  peg  here 
on  which  to  hang  any  eulogium ;  but  the  eye  of  the  Optimist 
detected  one  in  a  moment : 

"  What  a  desirable  pond  for  Ducks !" 

He  then  shifted  his  position  to  the  opposite  window,  and  with 
equal  celerity  discovered  "  a  capital  Pump !  with  oceans  of  excel- 


2H  WHIMSICALITI1 

lent  Spring  Wati  r,  and  n  us  handle  within  reach  of  the 

small,  LL'hil.i:" 

I  wondered  to  myself  how  he  would  have  d 
Fountains,  whi  r.'  the   Bparkling  i' 

Sculpture  into  raarbl  rod  without  the  trouble  of  pumping 

at  all,  minis!  srs  to  the  thirst  and  cleanliness  of  half  a  city.     Ami 

or  Travel!  nch  a  Bup  1  b 

work  with  scarcely  a  glance,  and  certainly  without  ■  syllable  of 
!     It  is  Mich  Headless  Tourists,  by  the  way,  who  throng  t<» 
the  German  Baths  and  consider  themselves  BubbL  d  because,  with- 
out any  mind's  ej  e  al  all, 

which  were  so  graphically  described  by  the  <>M  Man  of  the  Brun- 
For  my  own  part,  I  could  not  help  thinking  thai  1  must 
have  '  ire  in  my  own  |  h  lif   bj  ; 

difficult  1. 1 

For  example,  even  during  the  present  journey  whilst  1  had 
been  inwardly  grumbling  at  the  weather,  and  yawning  al  the  road, 
my  fellow-traveller  bad  b  in  revelling  in  Italian  skies,  salubrious 
breezes,  verdant  enclosures,  pastoral  pictures,  sympathizing  with 
wet  habits  and  dry,  and  enjoying  desirable  duck-ponds,  and  paro- 
chial Pumps] 

What  a  conb  rful  contented 

spirit  of  my  present  companion,  and  the  dissatisfied  temper  and 
tone  of  Sir  W.  W.,  with  whom  I  one^  had  the  uncomfortable 
honour  of  travelling  tete-a-Ute  from  Leipzig  to  Berlin.  The  road, 
it  is  true,  was  none  of  the  most  en  the  tarn 

flat  scenery  of  the  Lincolnshire  Fens  may  1"'  rendered  still  more 
wearisome  by  sulkily  throwing  back  in  your  carriage  and 

talking  of  Switzerland  !  But  >sir  W.  W.  was  far  too  nice  to  be 
wise — too  fastidious  to  be  happy — too  critical  to  be  contented. 


THE  HAPPIEST  MAN  IN  ENGLAND.  215 

Whereas  my  present  coach-fellow  was  not  afraid  to  admire  a  com- 
monplace inn — I  forget  its  exact  locality — but  he  described  it  as 
"  superior  to  any  oriental  Caravansery — and  with  a  Sign  that,  in 
the  Infancy  of  The  Art,  might  have  passed  for  a  Chef  (Tceuvre." 

Happy  Man  !  How  he  must  have  enjoyed  the  Exhibitions  of 
the  Royal  Academy,  whereas  to  judge  by  our  periodical  critics  on 
such  Works  of  Modern  Art,  there  are  scarcely  a  score  out  of  the 
thousand  annual  Pictures  that  ought  to  give  pleasure  to  a  Con- 
noiseur.  Nay,  even  the  Louvre  has  failed  to  satisfy  some  of  its 
visitants,  on  the  same  principle  that  a  matcbless  collection  of 
Titians  has  been  condemned  for  the  want  of  a  good  Teniers. 

But  my  fellow  traveller  was  none  of  that  breed :  he  had  no- 
thing in  common  Avith  a  certain  Lady,  who  with  half  London,  or 
at  least  its  Londoners,  had  inspected  Wanstead  House,  prior  to 
its  demolition,  and  on  being  asked  for  her  opinion  of  that  princely 
mansion,  replied  that  it  was  "  short  of  cupboards." 

In  fact  he  soon  had  an  opportunity  of  pronouncing  on  a  Coun- 
try Seat — far,  very,  very  far  inferior  to  the  House  just  mentioned, 
and  declared  it  to  be  one  which  "Adam  himself  would  have 
chosen  for  a  family  Residence,  if  Domestic  Architecture  had  flou- 
rished in  the  primeval  Ages." 

Happy  man,  again  !  fur  with  what  joy,  and  comfort,  and  cheer- 
fulness, for  his  co-tenants,  would  he  have  inhabfted  the  enviable 
dwelling ;  and  yet,  to  my  private  knowledge,  the  Proprietor  was 
one  of  the  most  miserable  of  his  species,  simply  because  he  chose 
to  go  through  life  like  a  pug-dog — with  his  nose  turned  up  at 
every  thing  in  the  world.  And  truly,  flesh  is  grass,  and  beauty 
is  dust,  and  gold  is  dross,  nay,  life  itself  but  a  vapour  ;  but  instead 
of  dwelling  on  such  disparagements,  it  is  far  wiser  and  happier, 
like  the  florid  gentleman  in  one  corner  of  the  Comet,  to  remem- 


216  WHIMSICALITIES. 

ber  that  one  is  not  a  Sworn  Appraiser,  nor  bound  by  oath  like 
an  Ale-Conner  to  think  small  beer  of  small  beer. 

From  these  reflections  I  was  suddenly  roused  by  the  Optimist, 
who  earnestly  begged  me  to  look  out  of  the  Win. low  at  a  pros- 
pect which,  though  pleasing,  was  far  from  a  fine  one,  for  either 
variety  or  extent 

"There,  sir, — there'-  a  Panorama  !  A  perfect  circle  of  enchant- 
ment! realising  the  Arabia  Felix  of  Fairy  Land  in  the  County 
of  Kent ! " 

••  Very  pretty,  indeed." 

"  It's  a  gem,  sir,  even  in  our  Land  of  Oaks — and  may  chal- 
a  comparison  with  the  most  luxuriant  Specimens  of  what 
the  great  Gilpin  calls  Forest  Scenery  !" 

"  I  think  it  may." 

"  By  the  bye,  'I'M  you  -'ver  see  Scrublands,  sir,  in  Sussex  I" 

«  ffever,  Sir." 

"Then,  sir,  you  have  yet  to  enjoy  a  romantic  scene  of  the 
Sylvan  Character,  not  to  be  paralleled  within  the  limits  of  Geo- 
graphy!  To  describe  it  would  require  one  to  soar  into  the  re- 
gions of  Poetry,  but  I  do  not  hesitate  tosay,  that  if  the  celebrated 
Robinson  Crusoe  were  placed  within  sight  of  it,  he  would  exclaim 
in  a  transport,  'Juan  Fernandez!1" 

"  I  do  not  doifbt,  sir." 

"  Perhaps,  sir,  you  have  been  in  Derbyshire  ? " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Then,  sir,  you  have  another  splendid  treat  in  futuro — Brag- 
gins — a  delicious  amalgamation  of  Art  and  Nature, — a  perfect 
Eden,  sir, — and  the  very  spot,  if  there  be  one  on  the  Terrestrial 
Globe,  for  the  famous  Milton  to  have  realised  his  own  '  Paradise 
Regained ! ' " 


THE  HAPPIEST  MAN  IN  ENGLAND.  217 

In  this  glowing  style,  waxing  warmer  and  warmer  with  his  own 
descriptions,  the  florid  gentleman  painted  for  me  a  series  of  high- 
ly-coloured sketches  of  the  places  he  had  visited ;  each  a  retreat 
that  would  wonderfully  have  broken  the  fall  of  our  first  Parents, 
and  so  thickly  scattered  throughout  the  counties,  that  by  a  mo- 
derate computation  our  Fortunate  Island  contained  at  least  a 
thousand  "  Perfect  Paradises,"  copyhold  or  freehold.  A  pleasant 
contrast  to  the  gloomy  pictures  which  are  drawn  by  certain  des- 
ponding and  agriculturally-depressed  Spirits  who  cannot  find  a 
single  Elysian  Field,  pasture  or  arable,  in  the  same  country! 

In  the  meantime,  such  is  the  force  of  sympathy,  the  Optimist 
had  gradually  inspired  me  with  something  of  his  own  spirit,  and 
I  began  to  look  out  for  and  detect  unrivalled  forest  scenery,  and 
perfect  panoramas,  and  little  Edens,  and  might  in  time  have 
picked  out  a  romantic  pump,  or  a  picturesque  post, — but,  alas  ! 
in  the  very  middle  of  my  course  of  Beau  Idealism,  the  coach 
stopped,  the  door-  opened,  and  with  a  hurried  good  morning,  the 
florid  gentleman  stepped  out  of  the  stage  and  into  a  gig  which 
had  been  waiting  for  him  at  the  end  of  a  cross-road,  and  in 
another  minute  was  driving  down  the  lane  between  two  of  those 
hedges  that  are  only  to  be  seen  in  England. 

"Well,  go  where  thou  wilt,"  thought  I,  as  he  disappeared 
behind  the  fence,  "  thou  art  certainly  the  Happiest  Man  in 
England !" 

Yes — he  was  gone ;  and  a  light  and  a  glory  had  departed  with 

him.     The  air  again  felt  raw,  the  sky  seemed  duller,  the  sun  mort 

dim  and  pale,  and  the  road  more  heavy.     The  scenery  appeared 

to  become  tamer  and  tamer,  the  inns  more  undesirable,  and  their 

signs  were  mere  daubs.      At  the  first  opportunity  I  obtained  a 

glas-;  of  sherrv,  but  its  taste  was  vapid  ;  every  thing  in  short  ap- 
10 


218  WHIMSICALITIES. 

peared  "  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable."  Like  a  Bull  in  the  Alley, 
whose  flattering  rumours  hoist  up  the  public  funds,  the  high  san- 
guine tone  of  the  Optimist  had  raised  my  spirits  considerably 
above  par ;  but  now  his  operations  had  ceased,  and  by  the  usual 
reaction  my  mind  sank  again  even  below  its  natural  level.  My 
short-lived  enthusiasm  was  gone,  and  instead  of  the  cheerful  fer- 
tile country  through  which  I  had  been  journeying,  I  seemed  to 
be  travelling  that  memorable  long  stage  between  Dan  and  Beer- 
sheba  where  "  all  was  barren." 

Some  months  afterwards  I  was  tempted  to  go  into  Essex  to 
inspect  a  small  Freehold  Property  which  was  advertised  for  sale 
in  that  county.  It  was  described  in  large  and  small  print,  as  "  a 
delightful  Swiss  Villa,  the  prettiest  thing  in  Europe,  and  enjoying 
a  boundless  prospect  over  a  country  proverbial  for  Fertility, 
and  resembling  that  Traditional  Land  of  Promise  described 
metaphorically  in  Holy  Writ  as  overflowing  with  Milk  and 
Honey." 

Making  all  due  allowance,  however,  for  such  professional 
flourishes,  this  very  Desirable  Investment  deviated  in  its  features 
even  more  than  usual  from  its  portrait  in  the  prospectus. 

The  Villa  turned  out  to  be  little  better  than  an  ornamented 
Barn,  and  the  Promised  land  was  some  of  the  worst  land  in 
England,  and  overflowed  occasionally  by  the  neighboring  river. 
An  Optimist  could  hardly  have  discovered  a  single  merit  on  the 
estate ;  but  he  did ;  for  whilst  I  was  gazing  in  blank  disappoint- 
ment at  the  uncultivated  nature  before  me,  not  even  studded  witb 
rooks,  I  heard  his  familiar  voice  at  my  elbow — 

"  Rather  a  small  property,  sir — but  amply  secured  by  ten  solid 
miles  of  Terra  Firma  from  the  encroachments  of  the  German 
Ocean" 


THE  HAPPIEST  MAN  IN  ENGLAND.  219 

*  And  if  the  sea  could,"  I  retorted,  "  it  seems  to  me  very 
doubtful  whether  it  would  care  to  enter  on  the  premises." 

"  Perhaps  not  as  a  matter  of  Marine  taste,"  said  the  Optimist. 
"  Perhaps  not,  sir.  And  yet,  in  my  pensive  moments,  I  have 
fancied  that  a  place  like  this  with  a  sombre  interest  about  ii, 
would  be  a  desirable  sort  of  Wilderness,  and  more  in  unison  with 
an  II  Penseroso  cast  of  feeling,  than  the  laughing  beauties  of  a 
Villa  in  the  Regent's  Park,  the  Cynosure  of  Fashion  and  Gfaity, 
enlivened  by  an  infinity  of  equipages.  But  excuse  me,  sir,  I  per- 
ceive that  I  am  wanted  elsewhere,"  and  the  florid  gentleman 
went  off  at  a  trot  towards  a  little  man  in  black,  who  was  beckon- 
ing to  him  from  the  door  of  the  Swiss  Villa. 

"  Yes,"  was  my  reflection  as  he  turned  away  from  me,  if  he 
can  find  in  such  a  swamp  as  this  a  Fancy  Wilderness,  a  sort  of 
Shenstonian  Solitude  for  a  sentimental  fit  to  evaporate  in,  he 
must  certainly  be  the  Happiest  Man  in  England. 

As  to  his  pensive  moments,  the  mere  idea  of  them  sufficed  to 
set  my  risible  muscles  in  a  quiver.  But  as  if  to  prove  how  he 
would  have  comported  himself  in  the  Slough  of  Despond,  during 
a  subsequent  ramble  of  exploration  round  the  estate,  he  actually 
plumped  up  to  his  middle  in  a  bog; — an  accident  which  only 
drew  from  him  the  remark  that  the  place  afforded  "  a  capital 
opportunity  for  a  spirited  proprietor  to  establish  a  Splendid  Mud 
Bath,  like  the  ones  so  much  in  vogue  at  the  German  Spaws !" 

•  If  that  gentleman  takes  a  fancy  to  the  place,"  I  remarked  to 
the  person  who  was  showing  me  round  the  property,  "  he  will  be 
a  determined  bidder." 

"  Him  bid  !"  exclaimed  the  man,  with  an  accent  of  the  utmost 
astonishment — "  Him  bid  ! — why  he's  the  Auctioneer  that's  to 
sell  us!     1  thought  you  would  have  remarked  that  in  his  speech, 


220 


WHIMSICALITIES. 


for  he  imitates  in  bis  talk  the  advertisements  of  the  famous  Mr. 
Robin-.     He's  called  the  Old  Gentleman." 

"Old  I  why  he  appears  to  1"-  in  the  prime  of  life." 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  it's  the  other  Old  Gentleman — " 

"What!  the  Devil  I" 

'•  Yes,  sir, — because  you  Bee,  he's  always  a  knocking  down  of 
somebody  s  little  Paradi    ." 


221 


23 n r 0 b    itttfr    /nnt. 


Fain  would  I  climbe 
But  that  I  fear  to  fall. 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 


It  requires  some  degree  of  moral  courage  to  make  sueli  a 
confession,  for  a  horse-laugh  will  assuredly  take  place  at  my 
expense,  but  I  never  could  sit  on  any  thing  with  four  legs,  except 
a  chair,  a  table,  or  a  sofa.  Possibly  my  birthplace  was  adverse, 
not  being  raised  in  Yorkshire,  with  its  three  Ridings — perhaps 
my  education  was  in  fault,  for  of  course  I  was  put  to  my  feet  like 
other  children,  but  I  do  not  remember  being  ever  properly  taken 
off  them  in  the  riding-school.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  my  passion 
for  sailing  has  been  inimical  to  the  accomplishment ;  there  is  a 
roll  about  a  vessel  so  different  from  the  pitch  of  a  horse,  that  a 
person  accustomed  to  a  fore  and  aft  sea-saw,  or  side  lurch,  is 
utterly  disconcerted  by  a  regular  up-and-down  motion — at  any 
rate,  seamen  are  notorious  for  riding  at  anchor  better  than  at  any 
thing  else.  Finally,  the  Turk's  principle,  Predestination,  may  be 
accountable  for  my  inaptitude.  One  man  is  evidently  born  under 
what  Milton  calls  a  "  mounted  sign,"  whilst  another  comes  into 
the  world  under  the  influence  of  Aries,  predoomed  to  perform  on 
no  saddle  but  one  of  mutton.  Thus  we  see  one  gentleman  who 
can  hardly  keep  his  seat  upon  a  pony,  or  a  donkey ;  wdaen 
another  shall  turn  and  wind  a  fiery  Pegasus,  or  back  a  Bucepha- 
lus ;  to  say  nothing  of  those  professional  equestrians,  who  tumble 
on  a  horse  instead  of  off.     It  has  always  seemed  to  me,  there- 

i  fore,  tbat  our  Astleys  and  Ducrows,  whether  they  realized  fortunes 
10* 


222  WHIMSICALITIES. 

or  oot,  deserved  to  do  ao,  besides  obtaining  more  honorary 
rewards.  It  would  not,  perhaps,  have  been  out  of  character, if 
they  had  1 n  made  Knights  of,  '>r  Cavaliers;  especially  con- 
sidering that  many  Mayors,  Aldermen,  and  Sheriffs  have  l>ecn  so 
dubbed,  whose  pretensions  never  stood  on  more  than  two  Legs, 
and  sometimes  scarcely  oi 

The  truth  is,  1  have  always  regarded  horsemen  with  something 
of  the  veneration  with  which  the  savages  beheld,  for  the  firsl 
the  Spanish  chivalry — namely,  as  superior  beings.  With  all  respect 
then  to  our  gallant  Infantry,  I  have  always  looked  on  our  Cavalry  as 
a  grade  above  them — indeed,  the  feal  of  Widdrington,  who  "fought 
upon  his  Bturnps,"  and  bo  far,  on  his  own  logs,  has  always  ap- 
d  to  me  comparatively  easy,  whereas  for  a  charge  of  cavalry, 

<  !harge,  Chester,  charge, 
Off,  Stanley  off, 

has  always  seemed  to  me  the  mosl  natural  reading. 

The  chase  of  course  excites  my  admiration  and  wonder,  and 
like  Lord  Chesterfield  I  unfeignedly  marvel — but  for  a  different 
reason — thai  anj  gentleman  ever  goes  to  it  a  second  time.  A 
chapter  of  Nimrod's  invariably  gives  me  a  crick  in  the  neck.  I 
can  well  believe  that  "it  is  the  pace  that  kills,"  but  why  rational 
beings  with  that  conviction  should  ride  to  be  killed  exceeds  my 
comprehension.  For  my  own  part  could  such  a  pace  ever  come 
into  fashion,  it  would  be  suicidal  in  me  to  attempt  to  hunt  at  a 
trot  or  even  in  a  walk.  Ride  and  tie,  perhaps,  if,  as  I  suppose, 
it  means  one's  being  tied  on — but  no,  my  evil  genius  would  evade 
even  that  security. 

Above  all,  but  for  certain  visits  to  Epsom  and  Ascot  I  should 
have  set  down  horse  racing  as  a  pleasant  fiction.  That  Buckle, 
without  being   buckled   on,   should   have  reached   the   age   he 


HORSE  AND  FOOT.  223 

attained  to — or  that  Day  should  have  had  so  long  a  day — are  to 
my  mind  "  remarkable  instances  of  longevity"  far  more  wonderful 
than  any  recorded  in  the  newspapers.  How  a  jockey  can  be- 
stride, and  what  is  more,  start  with  one  of  those  thorough-bred 
steeds,  is  to  me  a  standing,  or  rather  running,  or  rather  flying 
miracle.  Were  I  a  Robinson  or  a  Rogers,  I  should  certainly 
think  of  the  plate  as  a  coffin-plate,  and  that  the  stakes  were  such 
as  those  that  were  formerly  driven  through  self-murderers'  bodies. 

It  would  appear,  then,  that  a  rider,  like  a  poet,  must  be  born  and 
not  made — that  thej-e  are  two  races  of  men  as  differently  fated  as 
the  silver-spooned  and  the  wooden-ladled — some  coming  into  the 
world,  so  to  speak,  at  Hyde,  others,  like  myself,  at  Foolscray,  and 
thus  by  necessity,  equestrians  or  pedestrians.  In  fact,  to  corrobo- 
rate this  theory,  there  is  the  Championship,  which  being  heredi- 
tary, is  at  least  one  instance  of  a  gentleman  being  ordained  to 
horseback  from  his  birth.  As  to  me,  instead  of  retrograding 
through  Westminster  Hall  on  Cato,  I  must  have  backed  out  of 
the  office. 

It  is  probable,  however,  that  beside  the  causes  already  enume- 
rated, something  of  my  inaptitude  may  be  due  to  my  profession. 
It  has  been  remarked  elsewhere  as  to  riding,  that  "  sedentary 
persons  seldom  have  a  good  seat,"  and  literary  men  generally 
appear  to  have  been  on  a  par,  as  to  Horsemanship,  with  the 
sailors.  The  Author  of  "  Paul  Pry,"  in  an  extremely  amusing 
paper,*  has  recorded  his  own  quadrupedal  mischances.  Cole- 
ridge, for  a  similar  or  a  still  greater  incapacity,  was  discharged 
from  a  dragoon  regiment.  Lamb  avowedly  never  went  "  horse- 
pickaback  "  in  his  life.  Byron,  for  all  his  ambition  to  be  thought 
a  bold  cavalier,  and  in  spite  of  his  own  hints  on  the  subject,  ap- 
*  A  Cockney's  Rural  Sports. 


-2-4  WHIMSICALITIES. 

pears  to  Lave  been  but  an  indifferenl  performer — and  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  as  we  read  in  bis  lit".',  tumbled  from  his  galloway,  and  Sir 
Humphrey  Davy  jumped  over  him.  Even  Shakspeare,  as  far  as 
we  bare  any  account  of  liis  knowledge  of  horses,  never  got 
beyond  holding  them.  Lord  Chesterfield  has  described  Doctor 
Johnson's  appearance  in  the  saddle;  but  the  catalogue  would  be 
too  tedious.  Suffice  it,  if  riding  1"'  the  "poetry  of  motion," 
authors  excel  rather  in  its  prose. 

To  affirm,  however,  thai  I  never  ventured  on  the  quadruped  in 
question  would  !»•  beside  1 1 » « -  truth,  having  ;inlim  notion  of  once 
getting  astride  a  Shetland  pony  in  my  boyhood,  but  how  or 
where  it  carried  me,  or  bow  I  Bat,  it'  I  did  -it  on  it  for  an\  dis- 
tance, ia  in  blank,  having  been  picked  up  insensible  within  twentv 
yards  of  the  door.  I  have  a  distinct  recollection  however  of 
mounting  a  full-grown  mahogany-coloured  animal  of  the  same 
genus,  after  coming  to  man's  estate,  which  I  may  be  pardoned  for 
relating,  as  it  was  mj  only  performance  of  the  kind. 

It  was  during  my  first  unfortunate  courtship,  when  I  bad  the 
brief  happiness  of  three  weeks'  visit  at  the  residence  of  the  lady's 
father  in  the  county  of  Suffolk.  I  had  made  considerable  pro- 
gress, I  flattered  myself,  in  the  affections  of  his  "eldest  daughter," 
when  alas!  a  letter  arrived  from  L >ndon,  which  summoned  me 
on  urgent  business  to  the  metropolis.  There  was  no  neat  post- 
chaise  to  be  procured  in  the  neighbourhood,  nor  indeed  any  other 
vehicle  on  account  of  the  election  ;  and  my  host  kindly  pressed 
upon  me  the  use  of  one  of  his  saddle-horses  to  carry  me  to  the  next 
market-town  where  I  should  meet  the  mail.  The  urgency  of  the 
case  induced  me  to  accede  to  the  proposal,  and  with  feelings  thai 
all  lovers  will  duly  estimate,  I  took  leave  of  my  adored   Honoria. 

She  evidently  felt   the  parting — we   might  not  meet  again  for 


HORSE  AND  FOOT.  225 

an  age,  or  even  two  or  three  ages,  alias  weeks,  and  to  be  candid, 
I  fully  participated  in  her  feelings  of  anxiety,  and  something 
more,  considering  the  perilous  nature  of  the  expedition.  But  the 
Horse  came,  and  the  last  adieus — no,  not  the  last,  for  the  animal 
having  merely  taken  me  an  airing  across  a  country  of  his  own 
choosing,  at  last  brought  me  back  of  his  own  head,  for  I  was  un 
able  to  direct  it,  safe  to  the  house,  or  rather  to  the  door  of  his 
own  stable.  At  the  time,  despite  some  over-severe  raillery,  I 
rather  enjoyed  the  untoward  event ;  but  on  mature  reflection,  I 
have  since  found  reason  to  believe  that  the  change  which  after- 
wards took  place  in  the  young  lady's  sentiments  towards  me,  was 
greatly  attributable  to  my  equestrian  failure.  The  popular  novel 
of  "  Rob  Roy  "  made  its  appearance  soon  afterwards,  and  along 
with  a  certainly  over-fervent  admiration  of  its  heroine,  Di  Vernon, 
a  notable  horsewoman,  it  is  not  improbable  that  Honoria  imbibed 
something  of  an  opposite  feeling  towards  her  humble  servant 
who  was  only  a  Foot-Man. 

Since  then,  I  have  contrived  to  get  married,  to  a  lady  of  a 
more  pedestrian  taste;  an  escape  from  celibacy  that  might  have 
been  more  difficult  had  my  bachelorship  endured  till  a  reign  when 
the  example  of  the  Sovereign  has  made  riding  so  fashionable  an 
exercise  with  the  fair  sex.  Indeed,  I  have  invariably  found  that 
every  female  but  one,  whom  I  might  have  liked  or  loved,  was  a 
capital  horsewoman.  How  other  timid  or  inapt  gentlemen  are  to 
procure  matrimonial  partners,  is  a  problem  that  remains  to  be 
solved.  They  must  seek  companions,  as  W.  says,  in  the  humbler 
ivalks  of  life.  Poor  W.!  He  was  deeply  devotedly  attached  to  a 
young  lady  of  family  and  fortune,  to  whom  he  was  not  altogether 
indifferent,  but  he  could  not  ride  out  with  her  on  horseback,  and 
the  captain  could,  which  determined  her  choice.     The  rejected 


22G 


WHIMSICALITIES. 


lover  baa  had  ;i  twist  in  his  brain  and  a  warp  in  l»i>  temper  ever 
sine.' :  but  his  bitternef  s,  instead  of  falling  on  the  Bei  as  usual,  lias 
settled  on  the  whole  equine  race.  He  hates  them  all,  from  the 
steed  of  Bixteen  bands  high  down  to  the  Shetland  pony,  and 
insists,  against  Mr.  Thomas,  and  liia  Brutally-Humane-Society, 


that  borsea  are  n  \<  r  ill-us  id.  There  is  a  "  bit  of  raw  "  in  hi>  on  n 
bosom  that  has  made  him  regard  their  galled  withers  with  indif- 
ference: a  sore  at  bis  heart  which  has  made  him  callous  to  their 
Bufferings.     They  deserve  all  they  get    The  Dog  is  man's  best 

friend,  he  say-,  and  the  horse  his  worst. 

****** 
Sine-  writing  the  above,  -word  has  been  brought  to  me  that 

poor  W.  is  no  more.  He  deceased  suddenly,  and  the  report 
says,  of  apoplexy;  but  I  know  better.  His  death  was  caused, 
indeed,  by  a  full  habit — but  it  was  a  blue  one. 


227 


SI  Irui*  (CaBt. 


"  Who  shall  decide  when  doctors  disagree  ? '' 
'Tis  with  their  judgments  as  their  watches,  none 
Go  just  alike,  but  each  believes  his  own. 

Pope. 


That  Doctors  differ,  has  become  a  common  proverb;  find  truly, 
considering  the  peculiar  disadvantages  under  which  they  labour, 
their  variances  are  less  wonders  than  matters  of  course.  If  any 
man  works  in  the  dark,  like  a  mole,  it  is  the  Physician.  He  has 
continually,  as  it  wore,  to  divine  the  colour  of  a  pig  in  a  poke — or 
a  cat  in  the  bag.  He  is  called  in  to  a  suspected  trunk  without 
the  policeman's  privilege  of  a  search.  He  is  expected  to  pass 
judgment  on  a  physical  tragedy  going  on  in  the  house  of  life, 
without  the  critic's  free  admission  to  the  performance.  He  is 
tasked  to  set  to  rights  a  disordered  economy,  without,  as  the 
Scotch  say,  going  "  ben"  and  must  guess  at  riddles  hard  as  Samp- 
son's as  to  an  animal  with  a  honey-combed  inside.  In  fact,  every 
malady  is  an  Enigma,  and  when  the  doctor  gives  you  over,  he 
"gives  it  up." 

A  few  weeks  ago  one  of  these  puzzles,  and  a  very  intricate  one, 
was  proposed  to  the  faculty  at  a  metropolitan  hospital.  The  dis- 
order was  desperate :  the  patient  writhed  and  groaned  in  agony 
— but  his  lights  as  usual  threw  none  on  the  subject.  In  the 
meantime  the  case  made  a  noise,  and  medical  men  of  all  degrees 
and  descriptions,  magnetizers,  homceopathists,  hydropathists,  mad 


WHIMSIC  I/.//7/.S 

lOd    -'V.'!!    1.  | 

t.i  the  ward,  inspected  the  symptoms,  and  then  debated  and  dis- 
puted i>n  tin1  ii.it nr<-  of  the  disease.  It  was  in  the  brain,  the  heart, 
the  li\<-r,  the  nerves,  the  muscl  n,  the  blood,  the  kidneys, 

the  "globes  of  the  lungs,"  M  the  momentum,"  "  the  pancraii,"  "the 
capilaire  v<  iture : 

-  chronic,  :n i .  1  i  intermittent,  and  not) 

and   "ketching,"   and   "inflammable,"    and    "hereditary,"    and 
1   knows    what   1-  aid  -.     1 1  »wev<  r,  th 
d  ended  in  :i  complete  wrangle,  and  ever)   do 
mounted  on  his  own  theory,  never  was  there  Buch  a 

ibat  of  Hobbj    II  •!-•  -  al  the  •  nd  of  Mr.  B 
rXehea 

"  It's  in  kit  btomaob  '."  finally  shout  •{  the  H  use  Surgeon, — 
aft  r  the  departing  disputants, — "  iC$  i  ••■  A  t  " 

The] r  patient,  who  in  the  interval  had   I n  listening  be- 
tween his  groans,  n  i  Booner  heard  thu  head 
ed  twitched  by  a  spasm,  that  also  produced  :i  violent  wink 
of  the  left  eye.     At  the  same  time  he  beckoned  to  the  Burgeon 

■■  !  ou're  all  right,  doctor — ;i>  right  :i>  ;i  tii 

"  I  know  1  am,"  said  the  Burgeon; — "  it's  in  your  stomach." 

••  It  is  in  my  Btomach,  Bure  enough." 

■•  5T< — tl\  ing  gout" — 

-  Plying  what !"  exclaimed  the  patient  "  No,  no  Bich  lurk, 
Doctor,"  and  he  made  a  Bign  for  the  Burgeon  t  i  put  hi>  oar  near 
his  li;  s,  '  it's  au  Hoga  and  a  /Jul/,  -.^  I've  BwallerM." 


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